Four Corners of a Map
by lillelouis
Summary: The story of how King Edmund the Just came to hate the smell of smoke. The long awaited sequel to The Last Guardians.
1. Prologue

This story takes place two years after the events of the first one. Lucy is 17, Edmund is 19, Susan is 21 and Peter is 22. It is wildly inspired by Tonzura's Monochrome. So in her honor I would like to post the line that inspired me to start writing this one:

"_Because something about people with pushy personalities drew the indecisive like flies to honey_." – Tonzura123, "Monochrome"

I f***ed up the timeline (as I'm known to do). I changed it and it shouldn't interfere with your viewing pleasure at all ;)

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><p><span>Four Corners of a Map<span>

**Prologue**

"_The immortal gazed upon the weeping king as he knelt before his brother, and said: 'You, who carry your shield upon your back to protect your king and brother, but not yourself; how you have suffered the weight of your master's wrongdoings,' _

_The young king looked up at the wise immortal with inconsolable longing. 'Did I not deserve so? My guilt was my sin. A cloak under which the truth was hidden, and under which I allowed it to remain so. Should I not have seen the looming threat to my brother's life as well as to my own?' _

_The immortal saddened to such a degree that the heavens opened and wept tears of sorrow. 'My king, I would never fault you for having more love in your heart, than you do anger.'"_

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><p><span>(In the year 1008, Narnian calendar)<span>

"Sires," Oreius whispered. A young girl sat with her back to a line of soldiers. The general was holding back his men on the high king's command. They stood, frozen just outside the line of trees. It felt so wrong to see a beautiful girl like her, sitting alone in a field as she listened to a ghostly wind.

"There's not a soul for miles. How did she survive?" Peter whispered into the air. Edmund and Oreius shared a look behind his head.

"She's just sitting there." Edmund mumbled. It was true. Straight ahead of them, not fifty feet out, in the tall grass. His hand was already gripping his sword. Something felt very, very wrong.

"How did she survive . . ." Peter whispered again, not really a question anymore.

Edmund swallowed down the wave of fear that ripped through him. "Perhaps she's not as innocent as she seems." He shared a meaningful look with his brother. "How do you wish to proceed?"

Peter looked as frightened as Edmund felt. "Cautiously," He glanced back and snapped out of the strange trance that had held him. "Oreius, stay here with the men. Prepare to attack on my order."

The general nodded. Peter looked back at Edmund. "Ready?"

_Just the two of us, then_. It _did_ seem like overkill to march their entire battalion into the field just because of a feeling. Because of one girl. Ed nodded and followed his brother into the grass on foot. They couldn't see anything below their knees. In a land where enemies came in all sizes that added a new layer of paranoia.

"Be careful, Edmund." Philip whispered in departure.

Ed smirked and hoped to exude a bit of calm. As the two kings made their way through the grass, the feeling of unease grew deeper. Like a fist around their hearts. Both reached for their swords. "Peter, tell me you hear that."

She was humming. Not loudly. Just enough to be heard over the wind, but not enough for the others to hear. He nodded. "Ready your sword."

Edmund suddenly knew his brother felt the same anxiety as himself. "Miss?" he called softly.

She turned in surprise. "Oh, hello," A smile. "Just in time."

They glanced at each other. Peter shook his head to Oreius and stayed glued to his brother's side. "In time for what?" Edmund asked.

She held out a little wreath made of daisies. "To accept your crowns." Her smile wilted a little. It turned false enough to send shivers up their spine. "Isn't that what you came here for? To enforce your _will_?"

The way she said it made it sound like they had no right to do anything of the sort. "You're one of Jadis' followers." Edmund said. His expression darkened. He would recognize a believer of Jadis' anywhere.

Her smile vanished completely and left behind a grim frown. "You stupid humans always _ruin_ everything." Not only did she speak like Jadis, but she looked like her too.

"How many have you killed?" Edmund asked, ignoring her accusation.

The smile returned. "All of them," A smile. "They suffered through months of torture in only one night." Another pleased smile. She chuckled and finished the second wreath. "Died in their beds, screaming, but no one ever heard them."

"Why would you do such a thing?" Peter sounded breathless.

She looked up and everything about her changed. Her expression turned angry. "To bring you here."

The look in her eyes was something Edmund had seen once before. A predatory gaze. He had seen it in Jadis once and now again, in this girl. A soundless boom exploded from her like wind. It flattened the grass and caused both brothers to stumble back in shock. Like a smell, it seeped down their throats with the next, deep breath. There it filled their lungs and oxidized their bloodstreams. The last Edmund heard before he hit the ground was Oreius' battle cry and the spirit's scream.

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><p>Peter woke up sometime later to his youngest sister hovering over him.<p>

"What happened?" he mumbled as he sat up. They were in the forest. Not far from the castle. It appeared that Lucy had become worried and rode out to meet them.

"You don't remember?" She looked close to tears. Something was very wrong.

Peter paled and his breathing stopped. _Panic_. "Edmund-"

"Edmund's fine. He's just as worried about you as you are of him."

Peter sat up straighter. "Where is he?"

She gestured to a recently pitched tent behind her. "I gave him a sedative."

"Why?" He rubbed his head. He had trouble recalling what he had been doing before he fainted.

"Peter, he-" She stopped and glanced in the direction of the tent. "What exactly do you remember?"

He stared blindly in front of him as he tried to remember the events that had led to him waking up in the forest, surrounded by his men. "We set out to find the Cruel. She was sitting in a field." His voice died down to a whisper on the last words. _Surrounded by ice_. He whirred his head. "No. . .That's wrong."

"What is?"

_A castle of ice_. "That's not wh- What happened. . ." He began shaking.

"Oreius, we need you!" Lucy was suddenly pushing him down. She was handed a bowl and poured its contents down his throat. Something hot that bubbled lazily in his stomach.

"What is it, Queen Lucy?" He looked drawn and pale. So frail that Peter almost wept. A Centaur should never look so vulnerable.

"He's remembering."

She sounded scared. _A whimper. _"What. . ." Peter couldn't tell if he was really there. Blue walls kept flickering in and out in front of him. He remembered the cold. "What happened. . .?"

"Tell me you found her!" Lucy growled.

Oreius ground his jaw. "Still searching, My Queen."

"Damn." she hissed and returned to the close inspection of her brother. "The drugs are working." The angry bite had left her voice. Peter was falling asleep. Sinking deeper and deeper into his subconscious. "He's beginning to remember."

"Do you wish to put them both in the same tent?"

Peter groaned as another flicker burned its way through him. She gestured for a Faun and Dryad to help her lift. "Yes. As close to each other as they can get."

Oreius quickly bowed and left.

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><p>Days passed in a haze of panicked nightmares and screams. Neither of the kings remembered much. Tough both their sisters tried to speak to them about what they had dreamed both were reluctant to share their memories. Even general Oreius never spoke of his own dreams.<p>

It was the last month of summer before the northern winds came. The Cruel had attacked a village before the kings found her, and wiped out every living soul in just one night. If they didn't find her before winter, they never would. Peter knew this. His brother and sisters knew this. Autumn snuck over the lands and turned everything from sparkling green, to cool rust.

The kingdom was scoured in search of the Cruel. Later on they discovered exactly what had happened. She had attacked Narnian citizens through their nightmares. They were told that the spirit had killed every living Animal and Creature within ten miles of that field. They had ripped the area apart, but never found any sign of her and never saw her again.

Edmund and Peter had later led teams to discover exactly _how_ many had died. In one small enclave, they had arrived to a wasteland. About a dozen Animals or so were found dead. Not one of them had been left alive. They looked as though they had all died in their sleep.

Edmund carried those memories to his dying day.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Consider this a teaser. I know it's confusing right now. The entire story is pretty much that way (not like this chapter, but confusing nevertheless). Also, the wait WILL be longer. I know I say that every time, but this time it's really true. :( Let me know how excited you are about this story. Might help with the "waiting" part.


	2. Chapter 1: In the Name of Tash

**Disclaimer:** Just so I'm in the clear. I basically own nothing in this story. Well the Irins, yes. Some of the characters as well. The Twins aren't mine, but their personalities are very much figments of my imagination. Narnia is also NOT MINE. Celer, Kanell, Sir Giles and everyone else you recognize from other stories belong to Elektrum and her magnificent mind. Also the whole idea of the Tisroc's family and his ministers: The characters are mine, but they were very much inspired by the fic written by Ilysia called Annals of Kings. Wonderful piece and if you have time you should read it.

**Author's Note:** Did I not tell you about me waiting awhile until posting again? I NEVER follow my own shedule. Partly because when I post the first chapter I've already written 20 and mostly because I'm a sucker for attention. And just to infuriate you more: This chapter won't even clear up the confusion. It'll only add to it. If you're very very lucky(read: if I become very very impatient) you'll get another chapter tonight. You probably are/I probably am and you probably will.

And on a funny note: This story is basically three storylines mingled into one. It will be a long story like the previous one, possibly longer. It will involve Lucy, Susan and Peter many more. It will also involve King Lune's two wonderful sons Cor and Corin. The story is designed so that every chapter with Edmund is named and inspired by a Tarot card. Some of you are snickering/scoffing. Others are going "COOL!". Not really the point. It's mostly to be able to keep track of the story myself. Every chapter involving Susan, Lucy or... _others_ will be named and inspired by a fairy tale from 1001 Nights. That's kinda cool even for the skeptics ;) So as you can see there's a lot of boring stuff for me to keep track of and hopefully I'll do it well enough so the story won't suck for you to read. Also, this first paragraph in italics is inspired by the very first story of 1001 Nights. It's translated by myself from Danish to English and "God" and "Muhammed" have been rewritten to fit into the Narnian air of things, so there might be a couple of differences from the versions you've all read.

With all those useless facts in mind, I bid you: Welcome.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: "In the Name of Tash, the Inexorable and Merciful!"<strong>

"_Praise be to Tash, Lord of all! Prayer and peace with his emissary's word, the Tisroc, our King! _

_With all his people may prayer and peace live together for eternity until the last of days. _

_And may hereafter his legends tutor the people of our time so that the readers might know what transpired in the days of others than his own. _

_May he then honor and consider, what has been spoken by men in earlier times, and may he prove himself worthy. _

_Honor to he who inscribed the lives of the first men so that they might enlighten the journeys of the last men. From this treasure of tales, whereof we might learn, called The Rite, may we grow in wonder and grasp all there is to grasp."_

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><p><span>(In the year 815<span> Calormen calendar)

Vapor danced on air. The sand became water and the desert became sea. The Tisroc had never been a worried man. He was strong. At the age of fifteen he killed the first of his brothers in the battle for the throne. At the age of thirty two he was crowned in glory for all to see. And now he sat, with his brown eyes on the desert, his home. He sat with a heavy robe and the far heavier weight of a nation in unrest.

"The reports do not lie, o King."

He sighed and for a second indulged in a worn fantasy. A life in the lower streets. The life of a child. A simpler life. "Find him."

"My Lord..." Kafir Nuwe was sitting on his King's left-hand side while the Minister of War sat on the right. At that moment the minister was silent as a corpse. "He has the hearts of the people-"

"_I_ have the hearts of the people." The Tisroc had never had to raise his voice to inspire fear. Never had he longed more for the loyalty of love over the show of force.

"Certainly, o King, thy most gracious. I only mean that he has ways of ensnaring the minds of weaker humans."

"Find them and kill them."

"Yes, o my King." He bowed all the way to the door, only to straighten with a sigh the second thick mahogany separated him from the king he pretended to love. The king they all feared. Kafir waved for his two soldiers to follow him out. "Find the scout who brought you the information. Have him tell you where Jazir is currently located. Torture him if you must."

"Yes, general." his loyal subordinate answered. Both soldiers were next to slaves in the hierarchy of the Calormene Army, but both had trusted Kafir with their lives on more than one occasion.

In the room sat now only the Tisroc in all his obscure nobility and the Minister who had served him somewhat faithfully through all the years. "Call a gathering of the Council."

The Minister of War rose with a bow. "Yes, my Lord." He vacated the room like a breeze, and without noticing the Tisroc's beady eyes following him out. Only seconds later a girl came in. She kneeled in front of her king and placed a washbasin at his feet. He waved her on and sat back as the beautiful, young woman proceeded to wash his feet and bathe them in rosewater. "To be a child again," he mumbled.

The girl either pretended not to notice, or was afraid to answer.

"I cannot remember my childhood." He gripped her chin, raised it and reveled a little in her frightened expression. "For that I suppose I should call myself blessed." He released her. The only sound in the room was his heavy breathing and the water running in rivulets over his toes. "Should kings not remember the lessons they learned as children?" He wasn't looking at the girl anymore. She wasn't important. "A forgotten life is a lonely one."

She finished, but was afraid to leave while he was still talking.

"Should my enemies hear of this treachery they would surely fall on me like a horde of demons. They would come in the night," Clouds billowed over the flat plains of the Great Desert. "If my enemies plot against me should I not seek to destroy them as well?" He looked at her as if he actually demanded council on warfare from a thirteen year old slave. "It is strange how the birds fly north. Even in summer… they only fly north." He watched a pigeon flutter its wings and take flight from a rooftop. "Everyone flees to the north," His voice lowered to a loathing hiss. "To where the rivers burst and where the seasons can be counted in cornflower-blue, green, red and white." His eyes scanned every rooftop of his city. Here it was only yellow. Always yellow. Had he worked so hard for _this_? "But what if it was to fall?" His whisper was carried the on slow dust-currents in the room. He looked down at the slave. "Hm?"

When she didn't respond in any way other than stare at the floor, he waved her away.

"Be gone with you." The door closed quietly in her wake. "Be gone, all of you."

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><p><strong>Somewhere in the Great Desert...<strong>

The air was dry this far north. Any further and they would reach the mountains that hid the northern demons from view. Jazir scanned the desert like a falcon, looking for its prey. The sounds around were foreign to him. Fabric flapping in the air, men running around, sand whistling under a hot sun. A single, massive cloud was blown across the heavens. Its presence created a huge shadow on the ground. One he could almost imagine was the billowing sea, the way it moved forward on the wind. It had been so long since he had seen the sea. So long since he had felt at peace.

"Al-Jazir?"

He turned to acknowledge the man who had bowed upon entering his tent. "What did you learn?" The former Kahen poured the newcomer a drink.

The tired horseman sat down with a sigh, as if he were an old friend. "The Tisroc is amassing his army in Tashbaan. The Rite has been moved and Emman Tarkaan instated as Kahen of the New Order."

Jazir sneered slightly at the mention of Emman. That fat lackey was nothing but a glorified banker. He had no business acting as the spiritual guide for an entire country. "And what of Shehyzan?" His complacent nephew had enough sense to stay on the throne for _this_ long, but it took little to keep a reeling nation afloat while he ate himself to death.

"The Tisroc has ordered Supreme General, Kafir Nuwe to hunt us down."

Jazir scoffed. "He is a loyal man. Loyal to the Minister of War, _not_ to Shehyzan." He wondered where the minister's loyalty rested these days.

"My men have been deployed to the cities you chose. None will know of their presence until your command."

Jazir turned to the young man and smiled. "You have done good, my son." The sand had made his face like paper and his eyes dull, but a fire still burned within his soul. The same fire he saw in his son's eyes. "To the one, true God." He raised his goblet of water in toast.

"May He carry us on His wings." The son of Jazir Tarkaan raised his own goblet and returned his smile.

Through the unfamiliar sounds, the clanking of their cups echoed only briefly. On a perch in the distance sat a raven, peering at the usurper with its one, black eye. It cawed once and took flight.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> As I said: More weirdness. And things will probaly stay this weird for a while. Well... not THIS weird, but slightly uneasy. Oh and Fanfiction is putting restrictions on how long my chapter titles can be so the one on the overview is the shortened version... Damn that's gonna get annoying later on.


	3. Chapter 2: The Fool

**Disclaimer:** Narnia belongs to Lewis.

**AN:** I was struck with how obsessed most women are by the bond between brothers. (personal observation which in no way makes it true). But I wonder why and if anyone can tell me I'm eager to hear it. Oh by the way, the princes Cor and Corin are 15, and yes Cretin, m'dear you really need to hop on the digital-ID train and stop leaving me anonymous reviews :) You are of course ALWAYS welcome to read anything on my site. That's the reason it's _there_ and not written in my personal diary. And the same happened here as it did in the prologue. I slept my way through the writing the timeline and wrote the wrong year- hell the wrong DECADE. It's fixed now, gentle reader. Don't fear :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: "The Fool"<strong>

"_In days when the Beggar still walked the earth, did I see hope. _

_For on his back he carried only a sack, and on his person was only the most necessary. _

_On his brow rested a crown of feathers and in his hand he held only a walking stick. _

_His blessings were few, but his treasure great. _

_For his was a journey that followed the edge of the world._

_He was both unfathomable sadness and immeasurable joy. _

_In my heart I shall forever weep for he is dead, and none shall ever again look upon his glorious crown."_

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><p><span>(In the year 1009, Narnian calendar)<span>

Spring arrived late that year. The Narnians sat for weeks and watched the heavy rain as it pelted the land. Small Animals stayed under arches and balustrades and watched the downpour with sad faces. The four sovereigns received a rare gift when court was cancelled. No one dared venture into the downpour. Susan and Lucy spent the time with the young ones. Promised them that it would be a long summer since spring came so late.

Edmund and Peter practiced. Oreius had devised a series of drills to test the kings' skills. Drills that were facilitated by the rain. They were in the middle of running a battle simulation when the rain suddenly stopped. There was a brief cheer. The soldiers smiled and were about to leave the field, thinking the test was done if there was no rain. Oreius stopped them with a well-rehearsed yell. "ATTENTION!"

Everyone froze and darkened a little as they realized the change in weather wasn't going to bring the lesson to an end. They ran the simulation once. Then twice. They were in the middle of the third run, and King Edmund had successfully won the previous two, when Susan interrupted them. She came onto the edge of the battlefield with a pretty smile. Her dress was the color of spring yellow. "Hello, Oreius." The sun was peeking out from behind leaded clouds. A strong, eastern wind was lifting everything light enough into the air.

He bowed stiffly. "Good morn, my Queen." He was game master for the day and in charge of overseeing the 'battle'.

"Have you seen my brothers?" She paused next to him and looked over the field. Creatures and Animals were covered in mud and all battling each other. Roars of outrage and victory filled the air. Laughter and hooting. And in the middle of the mess she saw her two brothers, covered head to toe in mud, doing 'battle'. Edmund was winning again.

Oreius sighed. "I fear the kings are taking this exercise lighter than they should."

She giggled. "They're boys, playing in mud. Did you expect any different, General?"

He smirked in their general direction and hardened his countenance a little. "Fear not, Queen Susan. I will show them the seriousness of war by the end of the day." A slightly sadistic smile lit up his face.

She grinned. She was almost sorry for denying him to opportunity. "Actually I was hoping to steal them away from you." He gazed down at her. "I just received word that King Lune is on his way with the twins." She pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "He left this morning. His page left just a few hours before them, so they should be here soon."

Oreius smiled. "Queen Lucy must be ecstatic."

Susan laughed prettily. "Very much so."

"Very well," The great Centaur bowed and summoned the kings. "Sir Wolfsbane! Sir How!"

Both boys stopped mid-strike and looked up like curious pups. "Susan!" Peter greeted with a smile.

She returned it with a wide one of her own, but was denied a chance to answer when Oreius spoke. "The object of the game, Sires, is to "_protect_ the _queen_". Hence the name." he growled.

Both boys smiled and glanced back at their designated "queens". Xati had had the honor of being Edmund's "queen" whilst Celer had been Peter's. The Faun looked a bit worse for the wear as he finally emerged from a pool of mud with a slightly shellshocked expression on his face.

"Yes honestly, Peter." Edmund mouthed off as he pushed in front of his brother with a grin. The only part of the Just King not covered in mud was his teeth. "Susan!" He held out his arms as if to embrace her.

Her smile vanished and she dodged with her arms raised for protection. "No! Stay back."

"Will you not even greet the victor?" He couldn't stop smiling long enough to pretend to be serious. "I beat him thrice over. "

Peter nudged him in passing. "_Twice_. That last one was incomplete."

Edmund laughed as he passed and slapped him upside the head.

Susan barely dodged the errant drips of mud that splattered into the air when palm connected with head. "I'd rather not be covered in mud for King Lune's arrival, thank you very much. Honestly, you two," She waved them along with a deep sigh. "Martil and Silvo are going to have coronaries when they see you," she said dryly.

The boys smiled at each other and saluted their general in passing. They heard him call his troops to order as they left. "Captains Celer and Xati will each lead a line for the next attack! "Queens" will be Captain Astos and Beor. TO POSITIONS!"

A unanimous moan of disappointment echoed across the field, but all did as told. Peter and Edmund shared another smile as they left. Susan escorted them back to their room where Silvo and Martil almost _did_ have coronaries. Both valets dropped their bottom jaws and spent a full five second count to recover. Their kings had left muddy tracks all through the castle. "Aslan bless us. . ." Martil muttered.

Silvo looked almost offended and simultaneously exited. "To the baths at _once_, Milords."

The boys chuckled and followed obediently. They were escorted to separate baths and scrubbed until their hides turned pink. When they left the tubs the water was almost black. A might thicker as well. Martil and Silvo had placed a clean set of clothes on their beds. Peter frowned at the ridiculous colors his valet insisted he wear. His shirt was violet with gold trims. He smirked when he saw his brother frown as well. Edmund's was silver.

"King Lune will be here in less than an hour. The queens have asked you to join them in the Sun Pavilion." Silvo announced as he trotted around the room and replaced knick-knacks.

"Thank you, _Silvo_." "_Martil_.…" The brothers echoed. The shared yet another grin and began getting ready.

King Lune arrived with his usual, bubbling flourish. Ever since first meeting the kings and queens of Narnia he had cared a great deal for them. In the years since he had even grown to love them. His mother in law, Princess Eo, treated them like family. She greeted each of them with smiles and kisses. King Lune greeted the queens with praises and kisses as well. The kings were greeted just as eagerly, but without the kisses. Both twins, Cor and Corin ran up and embraced Edmund. The three fell to the ground in a heap of excitement. The king quickly admonished his sons and told them that such behavior was ill befitting for princes. Royals should exude patience and serenity.

Lucy cracked a joke that the kings wouldn't know patience if it slapped them upside the head, and made both princes smile. They greeted _her_ next. The only one who wasn't bowled over by their exuberance was Peter. Both boys had always held too much admiration, and just a little bit of fear, to do that with him. They were both absolutely smitten with Susan and could do nothing but blush in her presence.

"Lunch is ready, King Lune. If you'll join us?" she begged.

The king gladly accepted and took each queen by the arm. Edmund clapped both boys around their necks and ushered them forward in a half run. Peter bowed to Princess Eo and escorted her. The Sun Pavilion was named from its stunning view of Narnia. The pavilion was a room with three walls made entirely of foggy glass. It made the sun look like liquid gold, especially after heavy rainstorms and sunsets. It was the second highest balcony in the Cair. Only outdone by the Eagle Perch which had a three hundred and sixty degree view of Narnia. The Perch was oval-shaped, with columns in a circle around the room, and had been designed as a vantage point in case of siege. The only accesses to the Perch were two arched doors in each end. One only led down and the other led both down and up, to the domed observatory where King Edmund's tutor Cheroom often spent his nights. The stairs were designed for Centaurs.

That day was a glorious one. Heavy clouds rolled over the skies and a fresh wind tugged at the girls' dresses and hairdos. Curtains had been hung in the Sun Pavilion to offer a little shelter, and the large windows had been pushed open to allow the smell of the sea to enter. The curtains too, fluttered in the wind. A mound of large pillows had been thrown around a round table. It was set with enough tea and food for a small army. With her brothers' eating habits and the two, young princes, Susan expected everything would be devoured. The afternoon was spent in their delightful company. There was never a time where King Lune's visits weren't appreciated, but this afternoon seemed particularly joyful.

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><p>The next day, during lunch with the royal family, Peter was pulled aside by a Satyr guard. A Hawk scout had returned with urgent news. The high king didn't let his smile drop as he excused himself, but knew his siblings weren't fooled. He met the Hawk in the map-room where generals Oreius and Tarvi were awaiting him. The sun was shining brilliantly outside. It lit the room from the solitary window in the ceiling.<p>

"Generals?" Peter entered with practiced familiarity. He loved the familiar smell of stale parchment. The giant maps were some of the most detailed in all of Narnia and had been drawn several hundred years prior by an old scholar.

Both generals bowed in each their fashion.

"You called for me?"

"Might I introduce Master Stylus Hawk." Oreius presented. "He was on leave, visiting his family in the north-west when he spotted them,"

"Who?" Peter glanced at his general.

"The Telmarines, my Lord." Stylus answered.

Peter paled. His expression hardened and he suddenly regretted not having his sword. "When?"

"Two days ago. North of Lamp Post Clearing." Stylus said. He bobbed his head in a quick bow.

Peter returned it absently.

"I apologize for being the bearer of ill news, my King."

"Nonsense." Peter waved at him. "I appreciate that you journeyed all this way to tell me." He gave a sincere smile and saw the Hawk's eyes soften. Birds didn't have very many facial expressions, but one could usually deduce their mood by how often, or wildly, they flapped their wings. Stylus was sitting perfectly still. Peter approached the table. "Can you tell me where exactly you saw them?"

Oreius took over. "I took his debriefing only moments before you arrived, your Majesty."

"Very well. Master Stylus, you're excused."

The Bird bowed again and flew off. Oreius drew a little closer to the maps, splayed out on the table. "He claims he saw them around here." He pointed to the top half of a map over the Lamp Post.

"So far north?" Peter frowned and ran his hands over the well-used map.

"Perhaps soldiers from this 'Air Castle' King Edmund has told us about?" Oreius suggested.

Peter nodded. "What do you suggest?"

"Deploy a group to investigate. I'll personally take charge." the Centaur answered without hesitation.

Peter paused as the first inklings of insecurity appeared. He remembered the massacre two years earlier when his brother's guard had been slaughtered. He didn't want that to happen again. "I can't come with you-"

"I know, your Majesty." Oreius interrupted. It was rare for him to do it. He only did so when he wanted to spare his kings of the guilt. As sovereigns who weren't born to rule they had a much greater sense of duty. Peter felt it was his responsibility to go wherever his army went. As did Edmund. The girls felt that it was their job to go above and beyond as well. Oreius knew this.

"The trade-association is arriving in one month's time and the negotiations require that we all be present-"

"Worry not, King Peter." he said calmly. He offered a small nod that his king readily returned.

Peter glanced at Tarvi, who took the cue. "I'd recommend you alert the army, Sire, but hold off on mobilizing them." she suggested. As the officer in charge of organizing the larger parts of the Narnian army she had an unparalleled overview of the manpower available. Oreius controlled the elite whereas she controlled the majority. "Double the palace guard in shifts of four as opposed to two. Send additional help to aide those who may have been in contact with the usurpers."

Peter nodded. "Wise council," He nodded again. "See to it?"

She nodded and left after being dismissed. Peter looked back up at his general with sorrowful eyes. "Will we ever escape the threat they pose?"

Oreius saddened. "It is my deepest hope, my Lord."

Peter glanced towards the exit. "I'd like you to not inform my brother just yet."

The Centaur nodded.

"I don't want to alarm him if there's no cause." Oreius nodded again and was dismissed without a word. After he left Peter spent almost a half an hour staring at the maps. The dusty room felt heavy around him. He had just established a fragile peace-treaty with the Giants. They were all dealing with the civil unrest that raged through Calormen and threatened to expand north. Apparently the debacle two years prior had divided the country. Two factions had formed: The Tisroc and the Rebels. Rumor had it that the former Kahen, Jazir, was leading the rebels. Not for the first time in his life, Peter felt overwhelmed. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He turned and headed back to the Eagle Perch with slow steps.

No one asked the high king what had occurred in the map-room while in the presence of King Lune. Susan tried speaking with him that night, but he told her not to worry. His brother sent him long, deep looks that suggested he knew something was wrong. Knowing Edmund, he'd pry it from him sooner rather than later. Or have his spies eavesdrop on everyone until he found out.

Oreius was dispatched to the north the very next day.

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><p>King Lune and his family stayed for the duration of the Spring Feast. A week's worth of parties, dinners and bonfires after dark. The faint threat of Telmarine invaders was temporarily ignored. Occasional rapports arrived from general Oreius, but nothing was confirmed. Wild dances ensued every night after nightfall. Lucy would dance till she couldn't stand on her own feet. Each night Peter would pick her up and carry her to her room, her sandals in hand. There were so many smiles and so much love in the air that it seemed perfect. It was almost too perfect.<p>

King Lune and Princess Eo returned home at the end of the Feast. The parties died down. The Fauns, Satyrs and Dryads would continue celebrating all through summer, but the royal parties ended with a large fire by the beach. The Merpeople joined, led by the chieftainess and Satrap of her people, Mallo.

The governing system of the Merpeople interested Edmund greatly. A new ruler was found each generation by popular vote, as opposed to inherited titles. Lucy took a much more direct approach. Whenever she saw one of the shy Merpeople she jumped into the ocean to greet them. It had earned her Mallo's favor and loyalty. It seemed that Lucy was loved in the World Beneath the Waves.

A full moon marked the end of the Feast as it fell towards the horizon. Lucy and Susan returned to shore, wet from head to toe. Giggling and waving goodbye to Mallo and her subjects.

The next day they all said goodbye to King Lune and Princess Eo. Neither of the princes seemed upset about their father and grandmother leaving. They hugged them both, smiling. Princess Eo kissed them goodbye. Edmund and the girls next. Peter was given a warm hug and a searching look. She smiled and turned, leaving him to wonder if she saw something in his eyes others didn't.

Cor and Corin had been given permission to stay in Narnia during the summer. In autumn Lucy had scheduled a visit to Anvard and so promised to return them then. They were both exuberant and kept pestering Edmund about all the things they had yet to see in Narnia. Apparently they thought him the expert.

Peter quite liked to see his brother annoyed with his two, younger surrogate brothers. It would show him how hard it was to be the older brother. He could only smile whenever Edmund rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Despite the two noisy twins, the kingdom returned to its usual slumber. Summer crept closer. The air smelled sweeter. It became warmer and the sun hotter. Kanell tried to keep both boys busy in training as he had once done with Peter and Edmund. The kings and queens attended the things that needed their immediate attention. The rest was ignored and saved for cooler seasons. Peter still refused to speak of the possible threat with his siblings. Every time Edmund tried to engage him in conversation on the subject, Cor or Corin somehow found him. He was dragged away, glaring at his brother. Peter only smiled and waved.

Ambassadors, noblemen and friends from near and far arrived for Susan's twenty-first birthday. More parties were thrown. The heat worsened. Rivers slimmed down until they became little more than creeks. The scorching morning, when Edmund stepped onto the training grounds the first time that season, the twins had stopped their mock-fighting to look at him. Kanell, sweating and distressed, found them quickly. Half his tail had been chopped off and he had a limp on his left hind leg. With a grit jaw he mentioned the twins' lack of manners and coordination. After only a few seconds consideration he assigned the king with the tutoring of them both. Edmund didn't understand. Their manners seemed fine to him.

The delegations of the trade-union arrived. After three weeks of training with king Edmund the twins were deposited back into Kanell's capable hands. The Centaur glared at him when he announced his decision. He had a feeling the swords-master would make him pay. Court was suspended for three days while the trade-agreements were renegotiated. The looming threat of Kanell's retaliation was forgotten.

The renegotiations went surprisingly smooth that year.

Only the Terebinthians proved slightly obstinate. They wanted higher wages for shipping their merchandise to Narnia, due to the heightened risk of pirates. Lucy saved her siblings when she promised to alert the Narnian navy and seek out the threat. Peter had the feeling that the Terebinthian merchants would have preferred the money. The conference was dismissed on the third day to everyone's satisfaction. The captain of the Solaria, the largest trade ship in the Terebinthian fleet, gifted Susan with a carved cabinet. He gave it to her as a delayed birthday gift, but the sovereigns all knew it was his way to smooth things over after the negotiations. He was thanked and sent on his way.

Mid-summer arrived with the crisp sound of dry wheat, rattling whenever someone disturbed it. With the looming fear of forest fires. Unexpected news arrived with the drought as well. The Telmarines had been located. Oreius was escorting them back to the Cair. He sent a fleeting message, telling Peter not to worry. It wasn't who they had thought.

Two weeks later, the nomads of the Western Wild, arrived.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Whoof! I just re-read that chapter in two minutes. Damn that was a lotta information in such a short time. The funny thing was I was afraid I wouldn't know how to fill the pages. What do kings and queens do in three months' time? Probably more than I managed to think of.


	4. Chapter 3: Temperance

**Disclaimer:** I own naught.

**Author's Note:** The card called Temperance is most commonly a picture of a young woman or man with wings. It symbolizes divine patience and virtue. It does NOT symbolize abstinence, but moderation. A divine balance that every person from Siddhartha to Average Joe searches for. As a student of the tarot-cards (yes you read correctly) that card is my favorite. It was the inspiration for this chapter. In with that out of the way I would now like to tell you why that card inspired this chapter. Because we switch the pace a little in this one. We slow down and get to go into detail with the characters. Hope it leaves you satisfied.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: "Temperance"<strong>

"_The Dove sat, not upon her gilded throne with scepter in hand, but with both feet in the river and her wings open. She was patient and she was calm. Wherever she would land great peace would settle. Her wings offered shade when the sun burned and shelter when rain poured. Oh how I __loved__ my little Dove. Her name was Temperance and wherever she went, serenity followed."_

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><p>The day of arrival was filled with apprehension and slight confusion. A rainstorm had finally hit. For nearly seven hours it poured down. The parched soil greedily swallowed every drop. It turned everything to mud. If one looked out the window for only a quarter of an hour they could see the grass turning greener before their very eyes. Oreius returned to the palace, smiling and soaking wet; the entirety of his guard with him. He greeted his sovereigns and gladly delved into details about the supposed Telmarine "invasion". He ensured them that a mistake had been made. It was simply the return of the summer-gypsies.<p>

The forests around Cair Paravel came back to life. The Creatures who already dwelled there crept out to peek at the rush. The nomads utilized the field to the north of the castle, but also the surrounding forest. They started setting camps and drying wood for fires. Previous years they had almost cut down a few moving trees. Since then they had been taught by local Narnians how to identify the non-moving trees. It had caused quite a stir then, but was now almost forgotten.

The only one who still carried a grudge was a very old Owl, named Fillius. But no one really liked him anyway.

"What gypsies?" Corin asked with his eyes pinned in the direction of Owl Wood. The southern edge that almost reached the castle had it not been for the field in front of it. The field that was quickly transforming into a fair.

Edmund was looking through financial rapports from the armory and reviewing a proposition, from the Royal Council member Noctus, to create a ministry of language. For decoding secret messages and such. "They come every year. One of us will take you, don't worry," he remarked absently.

Everything needed replacing and it was going to cost a small fortune. He had two sets of rapports that needed tending, but the second set was of the foreign spies under Narnian pay. It wouldn't do to wave those around in front of the boys. Not many knew that the Narnian sovereigns were becoming rather competent at spying on everything. On top of that he would have to take the matter of creating a ministry of language up with his siblings, as well as with the other council members, before anything could be done. That meant a night's worth of arguing over trifles with a bunch of squabbling Owls and assorted Professors. He also didn't doubt they would have to bring in the librarians of their court to help.

"We'd rather go with _you_," Corin sulked.

Edmund glared up from his huge pile of papers. Cor was sitting quietly in the corner, reading a book. He was still catching up on all the things he'd need to know as king. All the things his twin already knew. "If you promise to stay very, very _quiet_, I might consider it."

Corin smiled and Edmund almost thought he would listen. "What do they sell?"

The Just King growled and closed his eyes. It was impossible to work when he was constantly being disrupted. "Everything."

"Everything?" Corin seemed prepared to believe him. He had his nose pressed up against the glass. It was still raining, but despite that people were setting their tents. "Shouldn't we go down there and help them?"

"No, I'm sure they'd rather do their chores in _peace_."

He noticed the glare Corin sent him, but chose to ignore it. Both boys were coming of age and their hormones running rampant. That also meant it was nearly impossible for them to sit still for more than ten minutes. Cor was the exception, but only with a book in his hands. Corin was the loud one. The rough and tumble. His brother was more subdued and quiet. More like Edmund, if the dark-haired king said so himself. Of course Peter said the same about _himself_.

The twins' birthday had been celebrated just after Christmas. They were both winter babies. Well…not _babies_. Fifteen year old boys, more like. Edmund didn't remember how he was like at fifteen. He doubted he had been as bad as them.

Corin flicked a paper ball at his twin's face. Cor dodged it with a skill that had been developed over several years.

"Edmund?" Peter called through the halls.

His study door was open and the high king walked in on the three, young men. Edmund, buried in papers. Cor professionally ignoring his brother and Corin being stubborn and still trying to catch his attention.

"How are things going?" He smiled and walked leisurely into the room.

Edmund sighed and put down the bills. "Slowly," He glanced at the twins as Corin flicked a paper ball which Cor deftly caught one-handed without looking. "Very slowly. You? Have any luck with the new recruits?"

Peter sighed and claimed the seat across his brother's desk. "They're a bit rough."

Ed grinned. "I remember what 'rough' looks like."

"Some of them can hardly hold a sword." Corin absently commented while he was rolling a second paper ball.

"Are those my bills?"

The prince shrugged. He and his brother had been training with the new applicants for the guard when Edmund couldn't train with them.

"At least they have the ability to _sit_ and be _quiet_ when told," Edmund said pointedly and earned a scowl from the youth. "Can't you take them out for a run?" he begged his brother. "Let them work on their fighting."

"That bad?" Peter arched a brow.

"Worse. _I_ was bad and I don't remember being _that_ _bad_." Ed slammed the binder of bills shut.

"Oi!" Corin barked.

Peter hummed in reminiscence and closed his eyes. "You were worse."

"Was not!" Ed chucked a crumbled letter at his brother.

Said brother caught it and chucked it back without flinching. When Edmund looked past him he saw both twins smirking, and growled.

"Oh shove it."

Sensing the mood was becoming a bit too grim Peter pushed out of his chair and shooed his brother to his feet. "Alright, come on."

"Where are we going?" Edmund grumbled, being pushed out of his office by Peter. The twins silently stopped what they were doing and followed.

"I am taking you, Dear Brother, out for a walk."

"Now? It's raining!"

Peter stopped by one of many, large windows and pushed it open. The rain had lessened to a dribble. Birds were chirping as their world came back to life. Smells entered the castle through the window and lured Edmund to the forest. "Still want to waste the day checking bills?"

"It has to be done."

"It can wait." Peter said patiently. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and pushed him in front. Cor and Corin followed quietly in the background. The four royals ran into Susan and Lucy by the north-west exit. "Hullo, girls."

Both queens smiled. They were pulling on cloaks and strapping on boots. "I see you had the same idea as us?" Lucy asked.

"I'm glad we caught you." Peter smiled.

"Should we take a guard just in case?" Susan asked.

"We have our swords," Peter mumbled through the process of lacing his boots.

"Besides most of them are off for the day. I bet many are down there right now, helping." Edmund said as he swung into his cape. He glanced down at himself and vaguely noticed how remarkably underdressed he was compared to his siblings. The twins were quite underdressed as well, still in their training clothes and reeking of high heaven. It was a wonder Susan hadn't found them sooner and forced them to take a bath. But then again, they weren't kings. They weren't required to wear regal clothes and look presentable. _Yet_. And Susan was busy. Not like Edmund and his siblings, compared to which, Edmund looked rather bland. A worn, silver-laced shirt under a brown leather jerkin. He lashed the vest closed and hoped Susan didn't insist they wear their crowns.

Lucy looked remarkable in her dark blue dress. Susan as well, in a bright red gown. Peter looked calm and regal as always with the gold lion on his chest. The crowns and fancy dress weren't just to establish royal status to anyone who didn't immediately recognize them. It was also for their own protection. Not many people dared attack a royal. Everyone knew of the consequences if they did.

Edmund didn't have time to fret when he was suddenly tugged along. Corin was pulling him by the hand, Cor running beside them. Ed barely flicked the hood over his head before he stepped into the dripping day. But what a glorious day it was. Like it always was in Narnia after the heavy, summer rainstorms. Green and bright. Smells everywhere. Wet and cool, but not cold.

The grass instantly slicked their boots. The girls kept slipping in their long skirts. Cor and Peter, ever the gentlemen, helped them with bright smiles. The field being used was located just behind a small thicket of pines. The fair was an explosion of sound and color for the quiet creatures that normally lived in Owl Wood. It was one of the largest forests besides the Western Wood. The two arched out and covered the entire northern part of Narnia. They met near the ruins of Jadis' castle. Nothing really grew there and Edmund had never had the inclination to go and see why not.

Carts and carriages were being secured. Bonfires, lit and tents, erected. Dark-skinned nomads calling to each other in foreign tongues. Five men were wrestling with a tall and brightly colored tent. "_Cuidado_!" It tipped and collapsed. The man in charge gestured for them to begin again.

Cor and Corin could hardly take their eyes off all the excitement. Edmund pointed when he spotted several off-guard soldiers helping to erect tents and generally just chatting with the visitors. Girls and their mothers were already opening carts and displaying their items. Two Archenland families, who were visiting the Cair separately, were there as well. The Galmanian duke's second cousin had arrived five days prior with his entire crew. Humans, Animals and Creatures. Narnians, Archenlanders, Telmarines and Galmanians. Probably a few Edmund had forgotten about. Supposedly there was a Calormene master-blacksmith visiting as well.

Someone Peter had discovered, crossing the Great Desert with his family to get away from the unrest in Calormen. He turned out to be of great value in the building of war-machines to combat giants. He and his relatives had been given sanctuary in the Cair.

"King Edmund!" Corin pulled him along, deeper into the crowds.

"Ed!" Peter called and drew his brother's attention. "Be careful." He opted to stay with the girls.

Edmund smiled. "I'll try not to run off." He barely caught Peter's grin before his view was obscured. Corin was talking with his brother about the pretty lines of fabric and a row of strange pipes. Edmund quickly pulled them away from the hookahs and towards safer items. "Perhaps Princess Eo would appreciate a shawl from you?"

The boys stopped and focused on a young girl, selling said shawls. The same girl as the year before. She recognized Edmund with a pretty smile. She looked to be about four/five years younger than him. Roughly the same age as both princes. True to their age, the boys seemed more interested in her smile than her merchandise. _She_ seemed more interested in Edmund than in them. He greeted her kindly and tried to ask how much she wanted for one of her fabrics.

She shook her head and held out a hand when Edmund tried to offer her money. A few silver Lions. But she just smiled and gave him the shawl. "I'd rather pay-" he tried, but was waved down.

Her mother came over next to her and laughed. "She says it's a present for the king of Narnia."

Edmund blushed and accepted the gift. "Are you certain?" She nodded. "Well then, will you tell her 'thank you'?"

The lady nodded and informed her daughter. The girl blushed furiously and curtseyed. Edmund bowed in return. The princes, Corin in particular, were trying to speak to the girl though she didn't know a word of English. Edmund grinned and put his arm over Cor's shoulders to put some distance to the spectacle his brother was making. "It appears your brother has gone and fallen in love." He maneuvered them away from the two ladies and Corin.

The quiet crown prince smiled and looked down. "He does that a lot."

Edmund pulled him a bit closer. "And what of you and Aravis? I noticed she didn't join you this time."

Cor sighed like a man twice his age. "Aravis is. . .complicated."

Just then Edmund knew prince Cor would make an excellent king someday. "Most women are. Even my dear sisters sometimes confound me." He giggled. "And I've known _them_ my whole life."

Cor giggled with.

"King Edmund! King Edmund!" Corin ran up to them, panting. "You disappeared."

"Ahh, on the contrary, young prince," Edmund lavishly explained. "It was _you_ who became lost. But all is well now that you are once again found."

Cor giggled, understanding perfectly. Corin just frowned and took up an easy saunter next to the king and the crown prince. "Do you have the shawl?" he asked.

Edmund held up the dark blue and rust-colored garment. Goldthread ran in horizontal lines from one end to the other. "She'll love it." He handed it to Corin for inspection.

He held it up and studied it from every angle. "She has a dress this color," He pointed to the rusty red.

Ed smiled and wrapped his other arm around the young man and said nothing.

"Where are we?" Cor asked suddenly. They had wandered for some time and reached Owl Forest. It wasn't far from the castle, but there were no stands here. Nothing to buy. Only tents and campfires. A couple Narnians were sitting around fires and talking with nomads.

"I believe we have wandered into an area one does not usually enter without expressed permission." Edmund mumbled. He had just had a riveting discussion with his old rhetoric teacher the day before and the memory was still fresh.

Both princes looked around with interest. "Can we go explore?" Corin asked.

Though Cor didn't speak, Ed could tell the quiet twin wanted it just as badly. "Ten minutes. No longer. I promised to keep you safe."

Both boys nodded eagerly and took off running. Edmund smiled as they went. He spent a few moments looking around. Not watching the tents like all the other visitors. Instead he let his gaze drift skyward. Owl Forest was populated mostly by evergreens. They shot up everywhere and most of them were non-talking. The nomads had been given permission to cut down the non-talking trees several years ago. It helped thin the population and spared the Narnians from doing it themselves.

The rainclouds had all but blown away. The ground was still wet and heavy. Almost black. Edmund loved this forest. It was one of his favorites besides the Western Wild. Mostly Birds and Bears lived here. The Bears were shy and the Birds always busy. It created a serene setting where one could stroll without being interrupted by curious subjects. This time of year, though, there was little peace to be had. With nomads setting up tents and Narnians running around everywhere. Ed closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. _Still. . .So serene_.

He lowered his head and looked around when a yell caught his attention. "_Zoren, a dónda quierel estó_?" It was an unfamiliar voice.

"_Aquíl por el más audaz_." Another unfamiliar voice.

Edmund turned, scouting for the source of the voices. He saw a tall man directing others. _Zoren_? He was surprised that his tribe had joined the nomads again this year. He had never seen the guild patriarch, but had desperately wanted to meet him ever since he first heard of him. It also meant Whilamina was probably around somewhere.

His dark eyes scoured the sea of people and tents, surrounding him. Not spotting Whilamina, he drew a deep breath and walked over the one he pegged as Zoren. "My Lord?"

The patriarch laughed before he turned to face whoever could be addressing him. "There are no lords here, young man." He looked Edmund up and down, appraisingly. "Or perhaps I stand corrected? Only Lords dress this grandly. Why are you here, friend?" His thick accent muffled the words.

Edmund swallowed and suddenly became unsure. Why _was_ here there? "I was wondering if I could render my assistance, Sir."

The tall man smiled and looked around at his laughing friends. "No one addresses me so formally. You may call me Zoren." Edmund nodded. "And what might I call you?"

"Edmund,"

The patriarch froze. His face melted off. "_Bendil ga'ala señora. . ._" His eyes widened. "Are you. . . _King_ Edmund?"

Edmund nodded and smiled shyly. "I apologize for not introducing myself as such, Master Zoren. You may _call_ _me_ Edmund." He looked around at the men who had noticed their leader's apprehension. "I prefer it actually."

Zoren still looked absolutely petrified.

"Zoren?"

He whirred his head and spoke to a man on his right. "Set the tent. I want it ready for when I return." The man nodded as Zoren gestured for Edmund to follow. "I had hoped you would come here," he confessed.

Edmund listened carefully and tried to watch where he stepped.

"You have been expected."

"I didn't realize they had told you about me,"

"They told me much of what happened, your Majesty." Zoren knew exactly which '_they_' he was referring to. "Though not all."

"You've seen them since?" Ed stopped in surprise. He wasn't sure where the sudden flush or disbelief came from.

Zoren nodded. "After they left you they spent some time with us. Only a few months."

"Do you know where they went?" Edmund's voice had gone flat. He was almost glaring at the patriarch, though he hadn't the slightest idea why.

Zoren nodded with a downward glance. "More even. I know where they _are_-"

A shout cut him short. "_You little thief_!"

Edmund's jaw dropped as he recognized the voice. "_We didn't steal_!" The voice of the accused, as well.

He jogged around a tent and into a camp. People he easily recognized were loosely spread around the area. "Outsiders aren't welcome here without invitation," someone snarled at the accused. Edmund paled when he saw Archer holding Cor in a headlock. He looked further left and saw Corin struggling to free himself, all the while screaming at Archer to release his brother.

The one holding Corin was a stranger to Edmund. "We didn't steal _anything_. He just wanted to see it!"

"Archer!" Edmund barked. Everyone there froze. "Let him go," Edmund advanced, pointing threateningly at the large man. "Let him go NOW!"

Archer instantly dropped the future king of Archenland and the boy promptly fell to the ground, wheezing for breath. "You as well!" Edmund barked at the other one, holding Corin. He didn't recognize him, but figured he was one of Romel's.

"It's the pup," Archer mumbled lamely and stepped back as Edmund kneeled in front of Cor. The boy looked on the verge of tears, but visibly calmed when he saw Edmund. Corin skid to a stop next to them and frantically tried to get his brother to speak. "Cor. Cor? Cor!"

"Your majesty, silence!" Edmund barked at Corin. He carefully prodded Cor's bruised neck. He winced empathetically when he hit a tender spot. "He'll be sore and won't be able to speak for a little while." He looked up at the gathered, without really seeing any of them. "Can someone get some water?"

To his surprise it was Zoren who offered it.

"Arch, who's this?" the young man who'd detained Corin asked.

Archer was rubbing his knee and staring at Edmund like the dark-haired king was a ghost. "He's the king of Narnia, you bloody berk! Get Valera."

Edmund ground his jaw and ignored the fact that Romel's men had never fully gotten to know him as king. All they knew was the boy without memories. The two were vastly different in some ways. "How do you feel?" he asked Cor.

The young boy nodded and swallowed small sips of water. "I've had worse."

Edmund saddened when he remembered that Cor really _had_ experienced worse. Throughout his childhood he had probably received dozens of beatings. Ed hated the one who'd done it a little fiercer. It didn't matter he would never meet the man. "Just breathe through your nose and take small sips." He relaxed for an instant which would prove his downfall.

He hadn't noticed that Corin was still simmering next to them. He didn't notice it when he accidentally nudged his sword back to have more maneuverability. He only felt it when someone suddenly ripped the sword free of its sheath. He heard the scratch of steeled edges and swung an arm out. He spun and caught the grip from the blade-end before he could rip it away from Corin.

Everyone flinched and a couple drew their swords. It stung when the blade was dragged over Edmund's lower arm, but he hardly noticed it. The prince was sneering at Archer and looked ready to kill him.

"_Calm down_!" Edmund thundered.

If anyone still doubted his stature, they never would again. That one yell traveled almost all through the encampment. Everyone in the camp froze. Corin was breathing heavily. His face, blazing with fury. Ed roughly clapped a hand on the side of the boy's neck and pulled him closer till they were face to face. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Corin was shaking with pent up anger. "He nearly killed my brother and you're just gonna let 'im _stand_ there!" His voice shrilled on several words.

Edmund remembered such a feeling. He remembered how it felt to be controlled by your hormones. "This man is _my_ brother." He noticed the way his surroundings suddenly seemed awfully quiet.

Corin ripped free. "What! He is _not_ your brother-"

Ed took a step forward and raised a hand. "Corin, calm down!" His cut arm was attached to the hand that was gripping his sheathed sword.

"I will _not_! I refuse to sit here and listen to a king who can't even be loyal to his own siblings. His _real_ siblings!"

Edmund paused. His expression dropped for an instant. "I _am_ loyal, Prince. And you are out of line."

Corin suddenly realized what he had unintentionally said. He paled. The flush of anger cleared from his face. A look of mortification, even horror, seized him. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's alright. It's fine," Edmund grit his jaw and swallowed. "Can you please just sit down-"

But Corin didn't let him finish before he turned. He swiveled on one foot and took off, away from the camp.

"Corin!" Edmund watched him trip over a log and roll right back to his feet. If that didn't stop the boy, nothing would. It was surprising how worried he was for him. Especially considering how angry he was as well.

"Should we get him back?" a feminine voice asked calmly.

Ed turned and was only vaguely surprised to see Valera staring at him. He shook his head and released the death-grip on his sword. "No. There are only two directions for him to run. Into the forest or back towards the castle. He'll be fine."

"Edmund?" a brighter, feminine voice called.

He turned in a rush and saw Lauviah smiling at him. With a laugh she ran forward and embraced him. He allowed a familiar sense of peace to wash over him. He leaned back and studied her face. She had gained a small scar just above her left eye since last he had seen her. She noticed his examination and smiled a little brighter, making him smirk quickly. Everything was slowly beginning to sink in. The Irins were here. _Here_.

Lauviah frowned when she felt the blood on his hand. She asked if she could check it, but he waved her off. "Please check on Prince Cor first,"

She only now noticed the young man, sitting on the ground next to where Valera was kneeled. "Oh," She kneeled as well and gently tilted his chin back.

Cor didn't seem to mind the attention from two, gorgeous women, but remained suspicious. He cast a questioning glance at Edmund, who nodded to reassure him. He was recovering from the shock remarkably well.

"How did this happen?" Lauviah asked.

"Archer couldn't control his impulses," Valera answered. Apparently she didn't need to be there to know how it happened.

Lauviah turned and glared at the culprit. She actually managed to make Archer squirm just a little. "You hurt a child?" He shrunk and Edmund was almost speechless. His mouth fell open and he stared at Archer, surprised and just a little gleeful.

"He thought Corin was trying to steal his sword." Cor said hoarsely. He directed the answer to Valera, instantly recognizing her as the authority in the group. Maybe even above Edmund.

"Which he wasn't," Ed said pointedly with a glare at Archer. The tattooed Galmanian glared right back. Apparently he also thought Valera outranked Edmund.

"Corin kicked him in the knee when he tried to grab him. He ran and I followed, but I tripped." Cor looked down shyly. "We didn't mean to alarm you. Sorry, Sir."

Edmund gazed at the boy sadly. It hurt him to see a king so humbled when he'd done nothing wrong. He looked up at Archer, expectantly. The burly man sighed and rolled his eyes. But then something about him changed. He looked at Cor and his eyes filled with something akin to empathy. He softened and apologized as well.

"Lovely," Valera came to a stand. "That was _very_ well done, Archer."

"Bite me," he sneered and left without further explanation.

Valera smirked and turned back to Edmund. "Would you like to stay and have a bit of lunch?"

In the background Lauviah had pulled Cor over in front of the fire. He was being royally pampered by her.

"Yes, that would be nice, thanks." Edmund divided his attention between Valera and Cor. The Just King had firsthand experience being cared for by the stunning blonde and couldn't bring himself to feel sorry.

He looked around at the half dozen-or-so gathered people. Hale was quietly sneaking into the camp with his eyes fixed on Edmund. When the two crossed, Hale nodded in complete awe. Edmund smiled awkwardly in return and couldn't understand why anyone would look at him with such devotion. Had he been only a little braver, he would have asked and the answer would have warmed him.

He _didn't_ though.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> And introductions have been made. In the first one you weren't given a very proper insight into their personalities, but that hopefully changes in this one. Let me know what you think. Any comment will do. A 'good', 'bad', 'meh' - doesn't matter. Ramble, rant, scream, squeal. I'm very grateful to all of you already just for having read the first one :) Thank you.

**Translations:**

_"Zoren, a dónda quirel estó?"_– "Zoren, where do you want this?"

"_Aquíl por el más audaz_." – "Over here by the bolder."

"_Bendil ga'ala Señora. . ._" – "The Lady bless us. . ."


	5. Chapter 4: Fable of the Donky and the Ox

**Disclaimer:** The idea of creating a rivaling country was a stroke of genious by Lewis. It makes it so much easier to elaborate on his stories, so I wonder if perhaps that was the intent? And of course I forgot to give credit where credit is due in this one. The passage in italics is from 1001 Nights with minor revisions.

**Author's Note:** Another detour. The text in italics is taken from the secondstory (I believe) in Volume One of 1001 Nights. And Cretin: College? Reeeeaaaallllyyy? Interesting. What's your focus? And now I feel like I'm getting too complacant on this site, having personal conversations at the beginnings of my stories. Sorry people. Ignore the babble and enjoy the story. Also, a little fun-fact: This chapter was uploaded in San Fransisco airport. The last glimpses of the Californian sky makes me almost wanna extend my stay. But alas, friends, family and responsibility awaits me at home.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: "The Fable of the Donkey, the Ox and the Shepherd"<strong>

"_You should know, oh my daughter, that there was once a merchant who governed over wealth and cattle. He was married and had fathered children. Tash had furthermore given him the ability to understand the speech of animals and birds. _

_The house of this merchant was in a fertile area, close to a river, and on his farm there lived a donkey and an ox."_

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><p>The crescent was one of many seals of Tash. One of fifty-seven, official seals. Also the seal of the current Tisroc. Soon to be the official symbol of the New Order.<p>

Emman's family crest was an ox. It had its origins when his forefathers first began making money. They sold oxen. Cattle. Later on those cattle had gone from animal to human. Slaves became the main source of income for Emman's father and his father before him.

On that day, Emman, sixty-second of that name, had started a new family tradition. Former financial advisor to the former Kahen, turned Kahen of an entirely new branch of the old religion. He twirled the gold coin between his fingers. He was waiting for the Minister of War to arrive. Waiting impatiently for his ally to join him over a meal.

The stiff man entered with a measured bow. He glanced around the room before he took his seat. "An invitation from the Minister of Religion, as he is soon to be called, is a rare gift." He soundlessly claimed his seat. "What calls for such an event?"

Emman wrought his chubby hands before he remembered his manners. "Wine?"

The Minister waved his decline. He was a former general and never touched drink or the tobacco most southerners loved. He had served in the Royal Army for forty-seven years before he became too brittle to raise a sword. A rare degenerative bone-disease plagued him and had made him very frail. He doubted his position as minister had been earned by those decades of service. More to the fact that he had, on five occasions, concurred southern territories for the Tisroc's empire. Taken land from the southern tribes. Men with skin as black as tar. Eyes like pools of shade.

Those victories had been claimed from the hands of warriors. Soldiers and chieftains. All that remained these days were mindless conversations over the price of unprocessed steel. Mostly those arguments were between himself and the Tisroc's Financial Advisor. But today he had been called upon by the newest addition to the royal council.

The Kahen himself. A small man. Bald. Seemingly mild-mannered, but with a hidden characteristic that spoke of ill intentions. The minister was decidedly unimpressed. "You are a man of few words, Al-Emman." He poured some water and pretended not to notice that it was nerves which held captive Emman's tongue. "The same was true for Al-Jazir."

It seemed the chubby man disliked the comparison with his predecessor. "I've called you here today to discuss a business arrangement."

"What business could a man of faith and a war-monger such as myself have with one another?" The former general didn't need to look to know that Emman was sweating. He was nervous enough to have allowed the mention Jazir by his former title without correcting him.

"It has come to Our attention that the Tisroc, may-he-live-forever, has ordered you to war."

"You refer of course to our search for the usurper?"

"Yes," he admitted in a very small voice. "It has also come to our attention that this search will require substantial funding."

This caught the minister's attention. He glanced up from the rim of his water chalice. "We have all the funding we need from the national treasury."

"Ahh yes," Emman held up a chubby finger in disagreement. "But I fear our Lord Tash requires a new temple built in His honor."

"And where would this temple stand?"

"The old one will be condemned," He tried to look sorry, but really only managed a milder form of greed. "…and rebuilt. Taller spires. More gold," The minister nodded. "-Our God deserves _that_ much, does He not?"

Deep eyes shot up. It was a test. "Certainly. I can think of no one more deserving, perhaps with the exception of the Tisroc himself, may-his-reign-flourish."

Emman nodded, seemingly pleased.

"And it on this matter we convene?"

"Taxes will be raised, especially on the pleasure houses." Emman reached for a biscuit and chewed loudly. "Most of those will go to the rebuilding of the High Temple, but perhaps," He glanced up lightning fast. "some of those taxes could be dispersed into the army."

"For a price, no doubt." the minister rightly concluded. He couldn't help his smile. This was a strange sort of treason, but it kept the days from blurring together. And he had an army to maintain.

Emman smiled and sipped his wine. "A _small_ price." It was a good day to start a new tradition, he decided.

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><p>The halls of the Tisroc's castle were long and complex. They were designed to confuse intruders. Only very few people knew the shortest way from the main stables to the kitchens. None of those people were Calormene. One such Calormene, a man who had grown up in the palace, but knew little about it, stood in the shadow of one of its many halls. In front of him was a door which led to a room.<p>

Beside the door was a hidden entrance that led to a _secret_ room. When familiar voices reached his ear, curiosity overtook him. He had no right to eavesdrop, but proceeded to do so nevertheless. He entered the carved dividing wall and hid behind a heavy curtain. Gold tassels only moved fractionally when they brushed against his slippers.

"…_dispersed into the army_."

He recognized the voice of the new Kahen. It wasn't the first time he had heard him speak. Though they had never been formerly introduced he would recognize the little, fat man anywhere. He leaned against the wall and continued to listen to the conversation between the Minister of War and the Kahen. They were plotting. The man frowned in the shadows of his hiding place. They were planning to divert money from the rebuilding of the High Temple.

The Tisroc had only commissioned for the construction because of the terrible incident four years prior. The business with the attack on Archenland, and the resulting madness. Rabadash leaned his head against the wall. That event had caused an irreparable rift between himself and his father. They hadn't spoken since that day and though no one had outright said it, everyone expected Rabadash to relinquish his claim to the throne.

There were still six royal sons left and anyone of them was more than fit for the role of Tisroc. One of them was already fat, another was already involved in politics, and two of them had already taken a liking to fratricide. The only reason Rabadash was still alive was because of his "disability". Technically he was no longer a donkey, but he still bore the shame. It had turned into something else a few years prior, though.

It had gone from anger to embarrassment. And from embarrassment it had become penance. He had deserved his punishment, he now knew. He had been a poor prince.

A clanking of goblets shocked him out of his reverie. They were toasting. Celebrating a decision. Probably to cheat his father out of more money. Rabadash wondered absently what the new Kahen wanted from the minister. He watched and waited till they left before he extricated himself from the secret room. It was very late, but he hardly ever slept at night these days. He preferred the solitude of the moon and the stars to polite smiles and embarrassed glances.

As he entered the largest garden he saw a sparrow on a cherry tree. A lovely little thing. It twittered as he walked by, but stopped when he took a seat. Most birds were asleep this late at night. He watched it hop from branch to branch until it sat right in front of him. With endlessly slow movements he leaned forward and reached out a hand. For a moment the sparrow looked at him as if it knew who he was.

Then, without warning, it fluttered its wings and took off. All he saw of it was its black outline against the quiet moon. He sighed and closed his eyes in the heat. Things were astir within the palace. Things would soon change, he had no doubt about that. Many questions presented themselves, but only one made him pause. Had he the chance, would he still try to claim the throne?

There was a time when he knew the answer. He was no longer so sure it was still 'yes'.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>I'm rather interested to hear what people think of Rabadash. How they would like to see his character end up. If you would like him to find humility and be forgiven or if you just wanna see him hang. Always up for discussing the characters of my current obsession.


	6. Chapter 5: Justice

**Disclaimer: **Lewis wrote the Chronicles and Elektrum wrote everything else. I only borrow.

**Author's Note: **I'm glad to hear that most of you would like to see Rabadash humbled.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: "Justice"<strong>

"_There once were two brothers. One inherited the kingdom, the other a feather. The poor brother went to a witch. 'Take my brother's life and give me his kingdom', he begged. She asked for gold, but the poor brother had only the feather. She accepted it as payment and plucked a plum from a tree. To him she offered 'Give this to the king and you shall have all you desire'. He did as told. The king ate the fruit and died shortly after._

_The younger brother was crowned and ascended the throne. But not long did he enjoy his wealth. Only a month after his ascension a rival warlord invaded the kingdom. The castle was under siege, but impenetrable. Despondent, the warlord went to the witch and begged her to kill the king. She gave him a nectarine and said to sneak it in with his food. The warlord did as told and killed the king the very next day._

_In his death the king saw a vision of the witch with his brother. He asked her why she had helped the warlord, and she said to him: 'I am not friend. I am not enemy. I am Justice and I am blind to all who cross my threshold'."_

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><p>"So this is King Edmund?" the one, who had detained Corin, asked. He didn't sound the least bit impressed.<p>

Ed was only a second away from rolling his eyes, but regained his composure at the last moment. "Yes. I traveled with Romel a while back."

"Really?" Cor perked his ears and blushed when Lauviah shushed him and admonished him for moving. She was rubbing ointment on his neck.

"Really."

"You did a little more than _travel_." Valera told her friend. "Edmund, this is Thale. He joined us a few months back."

"And is he. . ." Edmund glanced at the crown prince, sitting a few feet away, considering how much to say. "Is he one of you?"

"Yes." she said and smiled.

"You were special, pup." a warm voice called. "We don't make a habit of letting outsiders into our group."

"Arthur?" Edmund turned and was faced with three people he would know anywhere. "Where did you find him?" Corin was being held by the neck. He was sulking, but didn't look hurt. Behind him were two men Ed didn't realize he had missed so fiercely. His inquiry became insignificant. Romel smirked and glanced at the red-head to his left. Without waiting for answer Edmund ran over and embraced Arthur with a wide grin.

He gladly returned it with a smile and a slap on the back.

"Only with us half an hour and already you and Archer are fighting," Romel rumbled. He let Corin go. The twin quickly slunk over to his brother and sat down in front of him. He didn't even dare look in Edmund's direction.

"In my defense, he started it." Ed argued.

The pack leader smiled and offered the Just King a proper greeting. The two embraced as well, smiling and clapping each other's backs. Edmund didn't see Romel close his eyes and didn't feel him take a deep breath of relief as they embraced. "It's good to see you, kid."

Edmund smiled. "Likewise." He felt warmer than he had in years. It felt like coming home after having been lost. "Valera invited us to stay. I hope you don't mind?" He allowed Romel to direct him to the campfire.

"Not at all. We came here to see _you_." He gestured for Edmund to take a seat next to the twins. Romel sat across from him. His entire body relaxed at the mere sight. It surprised him how much he had missed the kid. "By the Prophet, you've changed." He looked enchanted.

It was a strange mood for Edmund to see the commander in. Almost serene. He felt a tiny bit self-conscious when he became aware that everyone was staring at him. He smiled and looked down. It suddenly occurred to him _why_ Romel would have reason to be serene. His eyes widened and he looked back up. Romel met his eye, smiling. "You're _here_." Edmund whispered.

Romel nodded and smiled wider.

Edmund felt a ripple of excitement rush through him. "You're free,"

"Thanks to you." Arthur said and sat down on Edmund's right.

The dark-haired boy stared open-mouthed at each of them in turn. "When did you figure it out?"

Romel sighed and shared another smile with Arthur. "About an hour after we left you."

Lauviah finished with Cor and stood. She mussed Edmund's hair in passing. He smiled wider.

"We had to take a path out of the mountains that led west. That path took us through Narnia."

"How did you know you weren't in Archenland?" He leaned forward.

"It's not hard to distinguish Narnia from Archenland. We used to live here once, you know?" Romel smirked and made Edmund chuckle.

Behind him, Cor frowned. "Are you Narnians?"

Romel nodded after sharing a meaningful look with Ed.

"But I thought there were no humans besides the kings and queens in Narnia."

Edmund watched calmly and wondered how much Romel would tell them. "Not many, but a few."

Ed smirked. _Apparently not a whole lot_.

"How do you know King Edmund?" Corin asked, very quietly. He was still curled up at his brother's feet.

Romel and Arthur chuckled. "That's a long story," He glanced at Edmund. "One I think the king would prefer to tell you himself someday."

Edmund smiled and nodded in thanks. He glanced at Cor. "How's your throat?"

Cor rubbed it. "Better. The ointment helps."

Edmund turned to Corin who shrunk. "And how about you? Have you calmed down?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm sorry I cut you."

Edmund glanced at the cut hand. "It's alright. But you should know better than to take someone's sword without permission."

Corin nodded and made himself even smaller.

Romel looked at the three royals with a light smile. It was remarkable how much Edmund had changed. It was amazing to see how those, two boys responded to him. They seemed to move whenever he did. They looked up to him. Even if one didn't know anything about the king _that_ alone should say enough as to what kind of a man he was. Romel couldn't regret having sworn loyalty to him. Loyalty to a king. Their lives were no longer just their own, but belonged in some way to Edmund. As he himself in someway belonged to his people. He wondered how long it would take him to realize that. Not long by the looks of things. "Have you been introduced to the new faces?"

Edmund looked up, at Romel first, then Thale. His gaze shifted to a woman, standing just outside the camp. She looked different from the others in a way he couldn't quite understand.

Romel caught his eye and nodded. "That's Nimwey Aardenwolf. She joined us in Archenland a year back."

Edmund nodded politely to the woman. She nodded back, but didn't move to speak. Edmund realized suddenly why she looked so different from the others. It was her expression. The sharp edges of her face. The way she constantly kept one hand on her belt. Edmund guessed she had a knife hidden there. "You're still trying to find everyone?"

Romel nodded. "We've stopped actively seeking them out, but those who remember sometimes find us." He received a bowl of soup from Lauviah and sat back with a sigh. "We tell them that the curse has been broken. Some opt to go back home," He gestured loosely to Nimwey. "Others choose to stay."

Edmund nodded to both new faces. "Lovely to meet you." Only Thale returned the greeting.

Archer returned and took a seat next to Romel. "You ask 'im yet?"

Romel shook his head and looked down.

"Well stop pussyfootin' around and _arsk_." He grabbed Romel's bowl and started eating. Hale was still hovering somewhere on the outskirts of the camp, gazing at Edmund and the twins.

The pack leader barely raised an eyebrow at the theft. He just turned to Edmund with a pensive expression.

"Ask me what?" Ed asked. Lauviah had returned and sat down next to Valera.

"We came here to see you because we need protection."

Edmund looked around at the different faces. "Protection from what?" He didn't smile or laugh. If it was something bad enough for them to come to _him_ he knew it was no joke.

"We're crossing through the Western Wild when the fair ends. Zoren promised to take us as far as he can, but that's not even halfway."

Edmund sat forward. "Romel," The broad-backed man looked up slowly. "Who do you need protection from?"

"Telmarines and ogres."

Edmund nodded. He remembered the few times he had met the ogres in battle. The one time he hadn't. Each encounter had ended with screams and pain. Would he put his soldiers through that? He had only just begun to travel the Western Wood again. He was very reluctant to go anywhere near the site of the slaughter. And just the very idea of taking Narnian soldiers into the wild and facing the ogres again, made his skin crawl.

"I know I'm asking a lot-"

Edmund raised a hand to stop him. "I'll do it." Silence settled over the group. "But I need to speak with my siblings first."

Romel nodded. He looked fully aware that he was asking a lot.

"And I need them to meet you."

He looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because my brother is very protective," Ed smirked when Corin huffed. _That's an understatement_. "And because I think it's time." He looked around at the Irins. They all looked a little shy. "If you still want my help, come to the castle tomorrow." He stood and waved for the twins to stand as well. "Come around midafternoon," He ushered Cor after his brother. "We'll have _tea_."

Romel smirked along with the king. "We'll see if we can make it."

Edmund nodded. It was better than he had hoped for. He knew he would always have a strange place with them. Not quite one of them, not quite an outsider. He joined the twins and gently pushed them along. His long strides carried him quickly back to the fair. It had thinned out some. He easily spotted his siblings, laughing with a nomad. He was selling roasted meat and something that looked like cider.

"Queen Lucy!" Corin called. Lucy saw him and smiled. The boys rushed over to the three sovereigns. "You'll never guess where we've been!"

"Cor, what happened to your neck!" Susan cried. Peter shot his brother a dirty look.

Edmund replied in kind with a look that said '_I'll tell you later_'. He should have guessed the outcome of their little trip. At present all he could do was damage control once the twins had shared their version of events. Susan was horrified right until Corin mentioned that the man who had choked his brother was a friend of Edmund's. Then all eyes turned to Ed.

Peter gently stepped in and checked Cor's neck himself. He then calmly waved down Corin. "I think this is a conversation best had inside." He looked at Edmund who nodded. "And I don't know about the girls, but I could sure use a spot of tea."

Lucy giggled. Susan smiled, but still looked worried about Cor. She kept him close on their way back to the Cair. Edmund followed in the back with Peter. Corin was speaking animatedly about his adventures that day. He seemed to have gotten over the incident earlier. Peter glanced at his brother, but Edmund refused to meet his eye. Not a word was spoken.

They sat down for dinner and suddenly it was as if no one wanted to start a conversation. Everyone ate in silence. It wasn't until the twins had been sent off for bed, the four sovereigns gathered in the girls' sitting room. A fire was started though there wasn't really any need. It was quite warm. For a little while all four just sat in their own thoughts.

"It's the Irins, isn't it?" Peter asked out of the blue. "The friends Corin mentioned."

Edmund stopped reading his book and looked up. His eyes didn't reflect any light from the fireplace. They looked almost black. "Yes."

"Romel?"

"Romel." he confirmed.

Peter nodded. Lucy glanced at her oldest brother. "The men who saved you?" She looked back at Ed. She sat to attention just as her sister interrupted.

"Are we going to meet them?"

Edmund looked up. She looked surprisingly expectant. He nodded with a glance at Peter. "They asked me for help."

"Help with what?" Peter's hawk-eyes zeroed in on his brother.

"Protection for their journey home."

"Can't they protect themselves?"

Edmund ground his jaw and refused to rise to Peter's challenging tone. "Most times."

"So tell them to do that this time." He returned to his own book, feigning disinterest.

"A friend of mine asked for my help. Would you turn _your_ back?"

Peter glanced back up and narrowed his eyes. "So you're just going to run off without knowing where to?"

Edmund drew at deep breath. His brother sounded angry. "Of course not." He sat forward, not entirely comfortable feeling like Peter was accusing him. "And I'm not _running_ anywhere."

"Edmund," Susan whispered.

The Just King sat back in his chair, but didn't take his eyes off his brother. Peter tipped his head. He looked like he was challenging Ed somehow. "So when do we meet them?"

"Tomorrow."

The answer shocked all three siblings. Lucy smiled quickly, but stopped when she noticed her oldest siblings' weren't.

"Here?" Susan asked.

Edmund nodded.

"You didn't agree to anything, did you?" Peter asked.

Edmund was very close to growling, but settled for a sigh. "No, Peter," His voice had a touch of long-term suffering in it. "I said that I wouldn't decide until I spoke with you." That was the first direct lie he had given his brother in eight years. And by his expression, Peter knew it.

He nodded and almost jumped out of his chair. "Splendid. I'm off to bed."

Edmund let his gaze drift from Peter to empty space. A hand went to his mouth and his mind swallowed him whole. Susan and Lucy watched Peter leave before they turned to their brother. "He's not usually one to get upset." Susan said. She looked at Edmund evenly.

He shook his head, still without looking at his sisters. "No he's not."

Lucy's expression softened and she tilted her head. "He's jealous, isn't he?"

Edmund arched a brow at her assumption, but hadn't the heart to deny it. It would appear she was right. "Don't know." But he still refused to hang Peter out for feeling something he himself had felt on more than one occasion. Emotions came easily to all four siblings.

Lucy had a natural ability to view things in long term, which meant she often saw the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Edmund was very good at hiding everything that made him appear weak. He was very, _very_ good at boosting anything that made him appear stronger. Susan felt everything with a level of grace and calm none of the others mastered. And Peter. Peter felt every emotion with the force of a tidal wave. He was fire. Edmund was ice. Lucy was the bright skies and Susan, the dark earth.

Edmund looked at his older sister thoughtfully. "If they asked for my help, it's serious. These are people who rarely encounter problems they can't solve on their own."

Lucy nodded whilst Susan just kept looking deep into his eyes. "You've already made up your mind, haven't you?" his younger sister asked.

Edmund turned to her.

She smiled. "It's alright, Edmund. We understand."

Susan glanced at her, but didn't argue.

"Do you?" Edmund looked quickly at Susan. The two stared intensely at each other for a few more seconds.

"Yes." Lucy declared for both girls. She sounded so sure, whereas Susan looked _unsure_.

"Alright," He pushed out of his seat and kissed his baby sister on the forehead. His older sister on the cheek. "I'm off to bed. See if he's calmed down a little."

"Goodnight," both girls called as he left. When the door closed they looked at each other. The fire cast smiles in their hair. Susan's became almost copper in color. Lucy's became gold. "I don't think I understand." she admitted.

Lucy's eyes softened as she turned to her. "What don't you understand?"

"Why he's so protective of them," She turned to the fire. It was safer than her sister's charged, blue eyes.

"He's protective of _everyone_ he loves."

"You really think he loves them?" Her voice was quiet and pensive.

"Almost as much as he loves us."

That made Susan look at her and smile. Lucy smiled with. "I must admit I'm a little jealous as well." the eldest sister said.

Lucy sighed and sank deeper into her chair. "Just because he loves them doesn't mean he loves us any less." The two girls shared another deep look. Silence fell and they allowed it to swallow them whole. They watched the fire until it turned to embers. Both later went to bed with whispered 'goodnights'. Everyone slept uneasily that night. All for different reasons.

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><p>The next morning a table was set on Queen Susan's private balcony. It waited patiently for its guests to arrive. The ocean breeze ruffled its tablecloth and made the dishes quiver. It was a bright day. Full of sound and movement. It waited silently as quiet voices reached it. Seagulls screamed in the distance. People laughed.<p>

Its guests were arriving.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Sorry it's so short. Almost makes me wanna break deadline and upload another chapter right away. How are you all doing with the slow build-up, by the way? The first story began very abruptly and kept its pace. This is a bit slower and will probably be that way through most of the story. Every movement made in this story (as opposed to the other one) is massive and slow. Things are going to look very different at the end of this tale.


	7. Chapter 6: The Lovers

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimers still apply.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far. Great to know that people have become hooked to something I've written. And THANK YOU sincerely for putting up with all the corny chapter titles ;)

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: "The Lovers"<strong>

"_The silence that descended was like the calm after an explosion. My thoughts muddled as cotton replaced air. A thousand moths sang for me just now. Their voices were so tiny hardly anyone could hear, but __I__ did. They sang of war and blood. Of emotion and violent storms that cast ships to sea. Their song of Being was so gentle I barely heard, but with content so violent I hardly daren't listen. _

_And through my apprehension I silenced my speech. I allowed myself to be consumed. Each of their voices was so tiny that I strained to hear. But once their wings vanished, once the air became air again, and I opened my eyes, I felt like I saw the sun for the first time."_

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><p>Romel looked at his crew with a mixture of pride and worry. They looked like they always did. Arthur was excited. Lauviah as well. Valera and Archer each bore his or her usual calm as they strapped on various weapons. "They're not gonna let you take those inside," he said.<p>

Archer huffed. "They have to find 'em first." He stuffed a knife down the front of his pants and smirked.

Beyond them were Hamied, Hale, Thale and Nimwey. Three of them looked nervous. Romel could relate. This would be the first time in eight-hundred and seventy-three years any of them had been _invited_ into a castle. "Everyone ready?" He met Hale's eyes and saw a smile. It seemed the only one who wasn't expecting anything was him. It made Romel's own smile widen.

"Do they know how many are coming?" Valera asked.

"I didn't tell him, but I'm assuming they'll have enough room." His barb lightened the mood slightly, but not enough. This was going to be one of the most awkward sittings he would ever attend.

Inside the castle doors they were met by four guards. Two were Satyrs and fixed guards at the front gates. The third was a very large Centaur and the fourth a Wolf. Both were their personal escorts. They were shown into an antechamber where the Centaur stopped them. "Please remove any and all weapons. Master Philbin and Sir Giles will put them in a secure room until you leave."

A hornless Ram and a Fox approached calmly and gestured to a large table in one end of the room. Romel glanced at his companions and nodded. The table was quickly filled. Weapons of every kind. Everything from knives to swords, and clubs to staves were put there. Believing they were in the clear they turned back to face the Centaur.

The Ram cleared his throat. "_All_ your weapons please, Sires." He looked pointedly at Archer.

Romel his brows in a silent _'What did I tell you'_. The large man growled, but willingly pulled out an assortment of knives, blades, hooks, throwing stars _and_ -spikes. When he reluctantly pulled out the last blade, Philbin turned his glare on Valera. She arched an incredulous brow. "How does he know?" she whispered to Romel as she passed him.

Romel hid a smile behind his fist. She proceeded to pull out all the weapons she had gone to great lengths to hide. The most surprising was the small mace she pulled out from under her leather jerkin. Sir Giles and Philbin shared a look of undiluted surprise. It was the gracious Fox who recovered first. "Thank you, Milady."

Valera didn't correct him in calling her a lady. Instead she nodded and smiled. It was a long time since anyone had addressed her by anything other than her name. Usually that, or 'wench'.

The Wolf and Centaur were waiting for them when they turned. The Centaur nodded in greeting. "My name is Oreius and this is Wills Ravenwolf. We will take you to see the sovereigns. They are expecting you." Oreius bowed again and turned as delicately as one could with four hoofed legs. He managed without stepping on any toes or knocking anyone over.

As they were heading up a myriad of halls and steps Archer leaned in next to Romel and grumbled in his ear. "Doesn't _this_ bring back memories?" he asked, referring to the Animals and Creatures helping them. They weren't aware that it wasn't customary to be escorted by trained soldiers.

King Edmund wasn't aware that his brother had asked Oreius for the favor.

At the top of a wide flight of stairs the group spotted two open doors. A cool breeze was blowing into the castle along with yellow beams of sunlight. Romel could hear soft voices. No one spoke among the group. "Here we are, gentlemen- ladies." Oreius gestured for them to exit the hall. He remained inside while Wills led them outside. The Wolf stopped just beyond the doors, facing his sovereigns.

"My Kings and Queens." He bowed quickly. "Your guests have arrived."

Edmund shot his brother a furious glare when he saw who had escorted said guests up. He should have known his brother would pull a stunt like this. "Thank you Wills. That will be all." Susan said kindly. She was setting the last cups and utensils. The ladies who had helped her, left with giggles and flirtatious looks at the newly arrived men.

Romel stayed at the front of the group and greeted Edmund with a quick nod. His eyes next drifted to High King Peter. Just looking at him, he knew the young man was every bit as good as his reputation. He was named the Magnificent, people had told him. He seemed to live up to it at first glance. The high king nodded calmly at the visitors. "Please. Sit."

The four sovereigns took their places so their guests could as well. It was a square table. The high king didn't sit at the head as Romel had expected. Instead a young woman took the seat. He distantly recognized her from when she and Peter had found their brother. From the descriptions he had heard, he surmised she was Queen Lucy the Valiant. The youngest of the four and barely an adult. Yet she had seen war, said the rumors.

The familiars were seated closest to the sovereigns out of no particular necessity. More out of habit. Romel sat next to King Peter, who sat at Lucy's right hand side. Arthur sat next to the second queen, Susan the Gentle, who was sitting next to Edmund. Valera, Lauviah, Archer, Hamied and Hale took the following seats. At the very ends on each side sat Thale and Nimwey. Romel noticed that Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the oldest queen and quietly cleared his throat.

The queen, bless her, seemed nothing short of amused by his admiration. Her brothers, less so. Edmund went as far as to lean in over the table to glare at the red-head. "Well," the youngest queen said with a smile. "Welcome to Narnia."

A low murmur of agreement echoed all around. Romel saw her share an almost desperate look with the high king. He decided a rescue was in order. "Thank you for having us, Queen Lucy." He nodded graciously and earned a brilliant smile from her. "I suppose I owe King Edmund for the hospitality." He raised a glass and was joined by Ed.

"Please don't call me 'king'." Edmund corrected.

Susan's eyes widened. "Edmund!" She gaped at him and very effectively made him blush and shrink into his seat.

"The pleasure is ours," the high king said. He smiled and toasted Romel, but the smile didn't seem quite as genuine as queen Lucy's had.

Tension hung in the air, so thick one could have carved it with a knife. It only cleared a little when Queen Susan spoke. "Are you hungry? I could bring up something to eat?"

Everyone shook their heads and she sighed. She looked almost sad that she didn't get a chance to leave the table. Romel couldn't blame her. Inactivity was worse than any other kind of pain. It was suffocation. Atrophy. "Well if there's nothing else, I'd like to discuss business." Finally it seemed Edmund had had enough.

"Edmund," queen Lucy admonished softly.

He smiled at her in a way Romel had never seen him smile before. It took the gnarled warrior by surprise. She softened instantly and smiled back. It was a reassurance, he realized. Edmund was telling his sister not to worry. She was trusting him. He turned to look at Romel. "You asked for my help yesterday,"

Romel shared a glance with Valera beside him. "Yes."

"What kind of help?" Edmund asked.

"Protection."

The Just King nodded. "Would you care to tell my siblings who you need protecting against?"

He swallowed. "We're leaving with the nomads at the end of the fair. Crossing into western territory. I believe that's King Edmund's land-" He shared a smile with Ed, but was interrupted by Peter.

"My brother has no obligation to you."

"Peter!" Susan barked. By the looks of things all four sovereigns knew the eldest had just fumbled. Only it looked like the eldest wasn't the least bit sorry.

Romel decided he quite liked Peter. Sometimes. "I know." He looked the high king evenly in the eye.

"Peter, ease off." Edmund said. Every part of him looked darker somehow. More threatening. It didn't help that he was protecting Romel by attacking his brother. But the high king did as told and looked away. The relief was palpable. Most of them released sighs they hadn't consciously withheld.

Romel cleared his throat. "I realize I'm asking a lot." He waited for an interruption that didn't come. He turned to Edmund. "The journey is dangerous."

"Then why take it?" Lucy asked softly. She leaned forward and stared calmly into Romel's eyes. It was eerie to see a royal so absorbed in every move he made.

"We have family at the destination. People who are waiting for us." Edmund looked surprised, but didn't interrupt.

"And where is the destination?" Peter asked. He shared a strict look with Edmund, but it didn't raise his hackles beyond that.

"Far to the west. Beyond Telmar."

"I didn't think there _was_ anything beyond Telmar." Queen Susan said. Her bright eyes flashed from Romel to Peter and back.

"_We're_ there." Romel answered evenly. He met Edmund's eyes and felt a little warmer when the king nodded at him. "I wouldn't ask if I thought we could make it alone."

"And what about our troops?" Peter asked. His voice had softened a little. "How can you ensure their safety if you can't even ensure your own?"

This was the part where Romel hoped with all his might that the rumors were true. That these royals were as amazing as everyone said. "We intend to escort them back here."

The high king looked at him surprise.

Romel felt slightly uneasy under his intense scrutiny. "That's the real reason I came today." He had noticed how the entire table had gone silent. "To ask for asylum."

"Narnia was yours once, I don't see why it still isn't." Edmund said calmly.

"We'll need to discuss that in private." Peter overruled. His brother looked ready to explode. The youngest queen as well. Queen Susan looked confused and a little hurt.

"There is nothing _to_ discuss, Brother." Edmund looked like every muscle was tensed. "This is their home as much – if not _more_ so – as it ever was ours."

"How can you say that?" the high king demanded.

"_Enough_," Lucy said quietly before anyone raised their voice. Romel was surprised when the brothers actually calmed down. "Peter, our dear Brother has a valid point." She looked calmly at him though he looked disbelieving. "They have a right to be here. Not just by our authority, but by Aslan's." She looked deep into his eyes until something in them changed. "Or do you challenge Him as well?"

Romel had never felt afraid of a woman until now. The young queen was far more than a pretty trinket with auburn hair and blue eyes. There was a fire in her. A passion that few others had. He found it hard to tear his eyes away. To his surprise the high king seemed to settle. He blinked and it was as if the spell was broken. He looked down and suddenly seemed almost remorseful. He stayed quiet, as did they all.

Romel wasn't about to mention that Aslan had no real place in a conversation on logistics. The fabled Lion was just that. _Fabled_. "Your majesties?"

All four looked at him.

"I know this is a lot to ask." He nodded at Edmund. The Just King was watching through deep, sad eyes. "I understand why you might not trust us, but I ask that you trust your brother." He wasn't sure it was wise to word it like a challenge, even after Edmund smiled. He wasn't sure until Susan suddenly smiled as well. Her ice-blue eyes softened in a way he hadn't thought it possible for them to do.

"Friends of his are friends of ours." She held her cup up, towards Romel. When he joined her so did the rest of his men. Arthur almost blushed when the queen toasted him individually. His smile would stay on for weeks if Romel knew him right.

It suddenly hit him: The trust he was asking them to place in him. He couldn't promise it would go both ways. The kings and queens may decide to trust in him, but he couldn't honestly say he would do the same. _Edmund_ was the one he had sworn fealty to. Not the other three. He had seen rulers like the high king before. Proud and magnificent emperors. He had seen queens as devout as the Valiant. As long as their faith triumphed they were wise and calm, but to some the possible loss of faith was worth committing genicide over. He had seen the atrocities they could commit. Why should King Peter or Queen Lucy be any different from them? He looked golden and regal, but was he really? She looked sweet and loyal, but was that all she was? He glanced at Queen Susan and wondered if a devious beast hid beneath her beauty. One that would lash out when threatened. If her insides were as horrible as her outsides were radiant?

Edmund noticed his fallen expression and frowned. Romel shook his head very softly and spent the remainder of the sitting, trying to ignore the young king. It would take quite a few glasses of spiced wine it would take a round of formal introductions before everyone relaxed. Even Romel slightly. Even _Peter_ slightly. The Irins were invited to spend the night in the castle by the queens.

Lauviah was quick to accept. She looked absolutely thrilled to be able to spend an evening in a real castle. Romel had cringed when the others accepted. He didn't want to give Edmund a chance to corner him as he knew he would. He could just feel it in the little glances he kept sending. There were questions on his mind and Romel wasn't sure he was going to like answering them very much.

He turned out to be right.

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><p>Later in the evening, after everyone but Romel had gone to bed, he found himself sitting alone. Watching the fireplace. They had been given a series of suites and glorious rooms for the night. It was very late. The fire had been restocked three times by a friendly Faun named Regious. He was the brother of King Edmund's personal valet and insisted it was no trouble to assist in adding more firewood. He seemed almost delighted to do it. Overall he seemed very proud of his high position within the castle and was furthermore very eager to talk about it. Perhaps he thought Romel looked like a good listener.<p>

Romel didn't really care. He had had too much wine and too much food to be of any use at all. It was only a minute after he had this realization that his door opened. It was a slow creaking. He exhaled deeply. "I'm fine, Regious."

"I'll tell him," a soft voice answered.

Romel flinched in his seat and turned to find King Edmund in his suite.

The young man calmly stepped into the room. "Can't sleep?"

Romel grumbled. "Too much space."

"You're used to sleeping outside." Ed quirked a brow and took the empty chair beside him. "I should think it would be the other way around?"

"You would think so. . ." Romel took a sip of his wine and continued to stare into the fire.

Edmund was watching him without pretenses. "Something happened during tea today." He looked a little closer. His eyes were almost black in the dim light. "When my sister granted you our trust." He wanted Romel to instigate a conversation on his own, but knew from experience how unlikely that was. "You pulled back like she burned you."

Romel sent him a sidelong glare. It was remarkable what a change he saw in Edmund now. The young man seemed far more confident than he had the last time they spoke. "I didn't argue with her. I'm happy she trusts us, though I doubt your brother feels the same."

Edmund smirked. "Very doubtful."

Romel sighed and emptied the cup.

"Should I call for another?"

"No." He set it on the little table by his side. "No, it's fine. I shouldn't drink so much anyway."

"Why not? You only live once." When he looked up Edmund smirked again. Just then the king saw in his eyes a fear he hadn't expected to see. For the sake of piece he decided to leave the subject alone since it was obviously a sensitive one. "Why don't you like the fact that my sisters trust you?"

Romel sighed. "I can't have this conversation with you."

Edmund huffed through a smile. "Why n-"

"Because you're not one of us." He regretted raising his voice, but noticed the king didn't seem bothered. His face was like a mask. Not a single emotion escaped. "I mean, you are, but. . ."

"But I'm also one of _them_."

Romel sighed again. "Exactly."

Edmund turned to watch the fire. "It didn't take me very long to realize my place within my family." he said. "You undoubtedly know of my title?"

"The Just,"

"It's not because I'm a judge-"

"You're not?" He had that clerical, authoritative air around him. Even if he _was_ just nineteen years old.

"Well yes. But not _only_ because I'm a judge."

Romel frowned.

"Aslan gave me that name," Edmund didn't see him frown. "-because of what I went through to get here." They shared a brief look. In under a second Edmund correctly guessed that Romel didn't understand his meaning. "I betrayed my family, Romel."

He swallowed. It was a part of the story he had heard. He had heard some foreigners refer to the Just King as a traitor. He knew the witch Jadis had taken a liking to one of the Narnian royals. He figured out the rest from there. "I know."

"And because of that I found myself standing outside, watching in." He turned back to the fire. "I was helped, of course."

_Aslan_. The deity everyone in this country seemed to insist was real. In eight hundred years Romel had never once seen Him. How could he have lived for so long and not once seen the one everyone loved? The one _he_ had once loved.

"He showed me what I had done wrong and how it had affected my family. After that it became very easy to read their reactions. I began to realize how horrible I had made them feel. How they reacted to myself and each other. It was a skill I honed until it became as easy as breathing," His voice drifted farther and farther away with the smoke that plumed up the chimney. "I saw myself with them and I saw what I would be _without_ them."

"Which view was better?"

Edmund smiled. "The first, by far." Romel smiled with. How could he not? "Would you like to know what I am, Romel?" He looked over at the Irin with something wild in his expression. The black of his eyes had shrunken and the brown now easily stood out. Almost golden.

"Yes."

"I am the root that balances the blade of grass." His voice was low and yet excited.

Romel frowned.

"I am the balance and my brother is the wind that shifts it. My older sister is the sun and Lucy is the entire field." He smiled a smile full of love and looked back into the fire.

"I'm not sure I understand." Romel's voice had lowered to a whisper. He almost didn't dare speak too loudly in fear he would shock Edmund out of his strange mood.

"I am not just _me_, Romel." Edmund looked at him again, this time more serious. "My brother is like a force of nature that rushes through our kingdom, the strands of grass. I'm the counterweight. The balance he needs to keep from breaking it."

Romel slowly began to understand.

"Without my brother there would be nothing. Without my sisters and me, _he_ would be nothing."

He didn't look sad of that fact. More proud.

_We are one_. "Do you understand now?"

He nodded. "I think so."

"So when you swore loyalty to me, by _saving_ me-" His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "You didn't just swear it to me." The same, loving expression he had had a moment ago when he spoke of his siblings, now beamed from him again. Now, when he was talking about the Irins.

And Romel really _did_ understand. "Because you wouldn't be here without your siblings."

Edmund smiled and a single tear dripped from one eye. "Exactly." He sat back and stared into the fire. He sniffed. "Exactly, Romel."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> I gave myself a nice pat on the back for this one. It made me smile just now, re-reading it. Hope it made you smile as well. If it did/didn't lemme know :) Oh yeah, and Rabdash's fate is decided. Happy reading. )


	8. Chapter 7: The Tale of the Trader

**Disclaimer: **Insert generic disclaimer here.

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for the cookies :) And just to clear up confusion: The italicized passages where I DON'T mention the origin are original and written by moi :) This one is from a 1001 Nights. The title of the original piece is the same as my chapter title, if anyone decides to look it up.

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: "The Tale of the Trader and the Jinni"<strong>

"_The thrilling story goes, O my King, of a greedy merchant who set out in search of more money. As he was riding the desert, he became weary and sat down to rest. There in the shade of a tree he began eating. He broke his bread and sucked the meat off a few, dry dates, thus breaking his fast. After eating he threw away the date-seeds without looking. His powerful throw awoke a man that rose from the desert sand. In his hand he held a mighty sword, poised to strike with all the force he possessed in his broad shoulders. His voice thundered upon the merchant, who shivered in fear. 'Stand up that I may slay thee!'_

_The merchant shivered, but stood and asked the mighty Jinni, for the man could be little else. 'Why must thou slay me?"_

_'You have slain my son. He has fallen to the ground, dead.'_

_'How have I slain thy son?' _

_The Jinni's eyes were the color of the azure sky and his skin the color of sand. _'_When thou atest dates and threwest away the stones they struck my son full in the breast as he was walking by, so that he died forthwith'."_

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><p>The tall walls of the council room stood in stark contrast to the gilded chairs, positioned in two arches from the throne, in which the Tisroc now sat. His large body molded itself after the contours of the soft chair in a way that made him seem disfigured. His bright red turban only added to the outrageousness of his current appearance. In the seven chairs throughout the room sat the Tisroc, three ministers and their aids.<p>

The Minister of War with Kafir Nuwe by his side, Al-Emman with his newly appointed page by _his_, and finally the Minister of Finance with a records keeper beside _him_. All chairs were expectantly angled towards the throne of their ruler. An air of excitement and a contradictory sense of boredom heightened the temperature in the room.

The Tisroc stared lazily at his three high ministers while he fiddled with the stem of a half-eaten cherry. A slave came in to take the stem and the pip, and through it all the Tisroc maintained the same look of barely controlled boredom. Had Kafir not been so utterly terrified he would have sworn the Tisroc was about to doze off.

"I have gathered you here…." He reached up and picked something out from between his teeth and took a deep breath. "…to discuss the future." He looked around at the gathered. "Where is my son?"

"Which one, o King?" the Minister of Finance asked. He was a very old man with the key to the royal vaults, in which some of the most exquisite riches lay. His records keeper was almost as old as his master, and one was hard pressed to tell them apart if not for the fact that the records keeper hardly ever spoke.

"Luz," the Tisroc drawled out in a near hiss. As if called, Luz practically fell into the room with a clatter of trays and a frightened shriek from one of the servers. As soon as the third son of the Tisroc met his father's eyes he froze. The Tisroc took a moment to stare at him before he sighed and allowed the young man to take a seat next to the throne. "Very well." He cleared his throat. Still in the same languid manner as he did everything else. "I have summoened you because I mean to capture and kill my uncle Jazir Tarkaan."

The expectant, or for the Minister of War – bored – silence that had filled the room only seconds prior gave way to surprise. Before anyone could speak, the Tisroc held up a hand and waved for two guards to fetch something outside the closed doors. "My uncle is not the brilliant symbol of faith he believes himself to be. The old ways are dying and new traditions must take hold."

In came two guards, dragging a man between them. The man was dressed in black from top to bottom with only an amulet around his neck. A silver pendant, depicting a jar with flames coming out of the top. He was thrown at the feet of the Tisroc. All around the room silence fell. The Minister of War leaned forward to peer more closely at this "guest".

"This man is a spy," the Tisroc lazily announced. He glanced at his son, the Warlord. Many suspected Luz would make a great ruler. He wasn't fat or secluded like his father. He wasn't scheming like other brothers. He was aggressive and brave. Something many Calormenes admired. The gunpowder to Rabadash's flame.

Two chairs away from him sat his exact opposite. The Minister of War was a lean man. Quiet, but not afraid to speak. Withdrawn, but not weak. He was a reasonable man. A calm man. But most of all he was a bored man. "What is to be done, o King?"

The Tisroc looked like he knew about the Minister's boredom, but tolerated it. "An example must be made," He glanced at Luz silently.

The prince, third in succession, slid out of his chair. The smile on his face left very little in the way of suspense. Death was written across every line. The two, young men locked eyes and Luz saw for the first time what acceptance looked like. The young man, the spy, was in fact no older than the young prince. And where the royal was already battle worn, the young spy had never seen war.

With one last glance at his father Luz stepped into position and swung the scimitar in a perfect downwards arch.

The spy's head hit the floor along with gallons of dark-red blood.

* * *

><p>"Al-Jazir!" A messenger entered the renegade Kahen's tent with his hands full. He was covered in fine sand from head to toe. All except for his hands. "The Tisroc sends a message."<p>

Jazir turned to welcome the new arrival, and when he did his expression fell. His mouth fell open and his hands fell to his sides. The advisors, scribes and servants in the tent suddenly felt a shiver race down their spines. The wise man looked at the box his messenger held. It was a gold-plated chest. No locks and no clasps. No designs other than the faded gold-lamination. Jazir looked the messenger in the eye though both men knew what to expect.

With both hands, reverently holding either side of the lid, Jazir opened the box. The bottom corners on the outside were stained with a brown color. A sickly smell emanated from within the chest. Jazir had never felt _really_ scared. He had never _really_ hated his king. As the contents were revealed to him and the messenger his hatred rose like an insurmountable mountain.

In the box was the head of Al-Jazir Tarkaan's only son.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>How was that?


	9. Chapter 8: Five of Swords

**Disclaimer:** My name is Christensen and I did NOT write the Chronicles of Narnia. C. S. Lewis did. I only borrow.

**Author's Note:** Hi everyone. If ever any of you have questions don't be afraid to send me a PM if you'd rather not ask them in a review. :) And this passage in italics is a lillelouis-original. *blows kiss* Thanks for reading.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: "Five of Swords"<strong>

"_Like a dance, it starts with rhythm. Drums so massive they could be stars falling from the sky. So penetrating they could be my very own heartbeat. My dance starts with a single boom. I split into two people. The demon and the slave. I become the sufferer and the tormentor._

_As the beat quickens my veins expand. My feet move swiftly across the floor. I hold out my hand. The ballet initiates with a series of rolling drums and wild violas. It transforms to movement. Previous thoughts vanish as everything melts away and becomes minuscule. As my muscles pound, my breath quickens, my heart throbs, and I __feel__ it. Time passes only for me now. It weaves itself in soft bows around my extended fingers. And I smile._

_The pressure lifts. My heart silences and leaves me panting. In the stillness I look up and realize no time has passed at all. That I have accomplished nothing tangible._

_The perfection I created was just for me. Only in the space of time I spent on it. But how can I stop? How can I stop when I now know what I'm missing?"_

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><p>The next morning Edmund was woken at the crack of dawn by his brother putting on armor. "Hells bells, Peter. . ." he groaned and rolled over.<p>

"Oreius called us down to practice. Apparently he didn't appreciate our absence the other day." Edmund couldn't hear the smile in his voice he normally did.

He tensed and roused much faster. "Something wrong?"

Peter strapped the last vambrace on. "No. Hurry up." He turned and left the room.

Edmund was left to wonder what had his brother so riled. As he was putting on his armor it came to him. The Irins. Everything was because of them, it seemed. He groaned at the thought of combating his brother today. He usually won their fights – be they with sword or with the spoken word. The only times Edmund had any kind of trouble keeping up was when his brother was fighting angry. Edmund always became sloppy when angry, but he also became quicker. When Peter fought angry it was as like watching a work of art. He became fast and deadly. Edmund's own speed was nothing compared to the force and precision behind his brother's blows.

He sighed and walked out the room. He wouldn't last five minutes.

The training ground was already packed when he arrived. Oreius was instructing a few of the new recruits on how to use their weight properly. Young Centaurs, he noticed. They usually had the most to learn because of their size. They were never the most graceful when they arrived, but at the time they were trained they were as graceful as cheetahs. Kanell was practizing with the twins as per usual. Edmund spotted Peter brandishing Rhindon and his shield. He spun the sword in two, lazy circles. Edmund wasn't fooled. His brother was fuming and it was going to come out of Edmund's hide.

"Oreius wants us to train the cross-guard defense." Peter mumbled when he noticed his brother.

Edmund hated the cross-guard defense. It was a maneuver especially designed for the kings. Perhaps more for Edmund than Peter. It required one combatant to use dual swords. Edmund chose two, short swords from the armory. The twin blades he had been gifted with on his fifteenth birthday by Oreius. They were Centaur-made and meant for slashing. He rolled the handles in his palms to reacquaint himself with their weight. It was a while since he had last used them. With a deep breath he took a parade stance and waited for his brother to charge.

He had a feeling Peter needed it.

And true to feeling, he did. With a barked, "Begin!" from Oreius, he lunged. Sword and shield swinging, to try and break through Edmund's guard. He managed to back him up three steps until the Just King saw an opening and took it. In a move Celer and he had perfected, he paraded Peter's swing and almost twirled around his brother, bringing both swords with him. It looked graceful if one could control both blades and still maintain the follow-through.

His right blade lashed out and caught Rhindon in an upward block. Peter countered with a push by his shield and again gained a few feet on his brother. "I had an interesting conversation with Romel last night," Edmund panted. He realized it wasn't wise to prod at an armored bear, but hoped it would help Peter release some of his anger.

Peter reacted instantly by diving into a series of swings and blocks with both sword and shield. Edmund's arms vibrated after each blow from the strength of them. He barely had time to go into the offense and opted to simply let his brother battle it out. "I told him I would follow."

Peter kneeled and spun, swinging Rhindon out from behind him in a wide arch, almost clipping Edmund's knees. At this point it was more of a dance than actual training. There was a split second when Edmund saw something in his brother's eyes change. A flash of some kind. He didn't have time to say anymore when Peter suddenly threw himself into a frontal attack. Shield up and sword pointing out from behind it. The Just King barely blocked by parrying, making the sword glance off his left shoulder and pushing his own blade out.

His left arm came up to protect against the shield, but wasn't fast enough. Peter rammed into him with every ounce of force he could summon and managed to drive the air out of Edmund's lungs. He fell back and hit the ground with an _oompf_. Peter froze and waited for his brother to gather his wits about him, but Edmund was done. He knew this was a conversation that needed to be had and not a fight on the training grounds where every new recruit could see. He lunged to his feet and sheathed both swords before he brother could attack again.

"We're d...done," He was still panting from the blow and knew there would be spectacular bruising later. Not that he would give his brother the satisfaction of seeing him whine. He turned and left the grounds with people watching curiously. Oreius had seen the move Peter had made. He had heard glimpses of Edmund's taunts. The high king stood in the middle of the fighting ring, not knowing where to go.

"Your majesty?" he called. Peter looked up. "If you are finished, perhaps I could take over the ring?" He gestured to the waiting recruits. He was giving the king an out, but wasn't sure said king realized it. The use of his title was uncommon on the grounds as well.

Peter finally nodded and removed himself from the training ring. He disarmed in the armory and left most of his armor there. It was a new suit he had only just been fitted for. The reason it had been in his room and not the armory.

Though the sun shone brilliantly that day, he hardly noticed. All the way to his room he walked as if in a haze. He greeted his subjects without really seeing them. It wasn't until he almost bumped into Susan he awoke. "Peter, there you are. Breakfast is ready." She noticed his mood instantly and gently took him by the arm. "Edmund and Lucy are waiting. The twins should be up in half an hour." she said softly.

"Are we eating outside?" he asked in a mumble.

She nodded. "The weather is beautiful today." She pulled him out onto her private balcony. The one they had entertained the Irins on yesterday.

The second the two brothers spotted each other, tension rose. Peter sat down without a word and spent the entire meal, avoiding his brother's eyes. He didn't realize that Edmund had no intention of looking at him either. Though the twins arrived with their usual clatter they quickly quieted down when they absorbed the tense atmosphere. Even Corin was unusually quiet. Both girls figured their brothers had had some kind of quarrel and tried to lighten the mood. Lucy mentioned that a suitor was arriving today. A Tarkheena from Azimbalda. Neither brother looked interested. She shared a look with Susan who silently shook her head. If they didn't want to talk she shouldn't pressure them.

The boys were so fragile in their own way. So in an attempt to let them be she engaged the twins and her baby sister in conversation instead. Even made them giggle a little. The pressure didn't dissipate until Peter rose and left. Edmund followed not long after. Lucy looked at her sister. Both girls knew what was going to happen.

* * *

><p>Edmund found his brother in their room. "Court starts in half an hour." he said and sank down on the bed. His chest had stopped hurting, but bruises were forming.<p>

Peter sat on his own bed and stared at his hands. He looked almost sad.

"Peter, what is it?"

"You know what it is." he mumbled.

Edmund sighed. "You think I'd rather be with them than here." Peter didn't move or respond. He just sat. "You know that's foolish." He folded his legs under him. "I would never leave you. You're my family."

"So are they, apparently." He still wouldn't look up.

"Yes, but they're not blood. They're family like Oreius and Kanell are family. You're not jealous of _them_."

"This is different." Peter looked up then with a mixture of fear and sadness. "They're _yours_. You're going to leave because of them."

"Only a little while."

He huffed. "I know. You have every intention of coming back, but you don't even see how dangerous this is."

"I know how dangerous the Western Wild is." Ed's voice lowered to a threatening growl.

The high king raised _his_. "Then why leave?"

"Because they are our people! We have a responsibility to them."

"You, _not_ us."

"Yes, _us_. We don't rule independently. Just because we each have our roles to play, does not mean we're stuck in those roles."

"We're more stuck than you realize."

"Peter, just come off it." He rolled to a stand and walked to the window. "You know I'm not doing this to punish you."

"So why do you?" he asked quietly.

The Just King stopped and sighed. "I'm leaving because I feel like I have to." He turned back on his brother who looked up. "You know the _feelings_ we sometimes have? The ones Lucy insists are from Aslan."

He nodded.

"Something is _telling_ me to do this. If I don't I'm afraid something terrible will happen."

"If you do, you might die."

". . .Yes, but-"

"I won't let you."

He sighed. This was about to become a battle to see who was more stubborn. "Peter, it's not your decision to make."

"No. I won't let you go." He took a steeling breath. "Not alone."

"What?"

"If you go, I go." He stood up. He looked a little lighter somehow.

It was strange how his brother's mind worked sometimes. He could turn in an instant. Lighten the mood with just one word. "We'll kill each other." Edmund said through a smile.

"We used to get along without arguing every five minutes." He smirked.

Edmund saddened a little. He was having a hard time remembering when they stopped being able to talk openly. "Yes we did." He knew what was happening. It felt like he didn't fit anymore. He didn't quite fit with his siblings and he didn't fit with the Irins either. He felt like he was intruding all the time and it was making him edgy. Cranky. As a result his brother became cranky as well.

"I don't remember why we can't anymore." Peter turned and started pacing slowly to the door.

"Me neither." Edmund muttered. His brother stood with his back turned. He realized he was waiting for something. "It would be nice if you would come." he said. To his relief it seemed to have been what his brother had waited for. He turned and smiled. A real smile. Not a regal smile or a pleasant smile. But a silly, big brother smile. The ones Edmund hadn't seen in a long time. He smiled back.

"Court is in fifteen minutes."

Edmund frowned. "I wonder why Martil or Silvo hasn't interrupted us yet-"

"Your majesty?" the Faun opened the door. "Did you call?"

He smiled. "Yes, Martil. Thank you." The Faun smiled and entered with Silvo right behind him. Edmund and Peter both wondered if they had been waiting outside the door. They didn't think too long about it, though. The light mood was infectious and soon had both brothers more worried about the arriving Tarkheena than who had which role to play.

It would have been wise of them to consider those roles for just a little longer. It would have spared both of them so much pain.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Alright. So just to sum up, we have Peter and Edmund running off into the western wild to chaperone a bunch of previously immortal soldiers to get their families (however that works - It'll be explained ;) ) And on top of that we have a looming threat in the south that may or may not grow into something more.


	10. Chapter 9: Ace of Wands

**Disclaimer:** Lewis wrote Narnia into being. The italizised passage is called Aesop's fairy tale and has been re-written slightly.

**Author's Note:** The mention of Edmund and Lucy being loved by the Terebinthians is from another story that is in the process of being written. I'm bactracking :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: "Ace of Wands"<strong>

"_In a field one summer's day a grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. A group of ants walked by, grunting as they struggled to carry plump kernels of corn._

'_Where are you going with those heavy things?' asked the grasshopper._

_Without stopping, the first ant replied, 'To our ant hill. This is the third kernel I've delivered today.'_

'_Why not come and sing with me,' teased the grasshopper, 'instead of working so hard?'_

'_Winter always comes again. This is not something you should discard.'_

_The grasshopper laughed. 'Winter is far away, and it's a glorious day to play'_

_The ants just shook their heads and went their way."_

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><p>The Tarkheena came, was seen and sent off in under two days. She had come to ask for Peter's hand in marriage. Hardly the first time someone had been to try and steal themselves a royal title. And it turned out Peter had little trouble brushing her off without insulting her. It sometimes paid to have a winning smile.<p>

Edmund watched enviously, wondering how his brother managed to make women fall in love with him from across the Great Desert. After a while he got tired of wallowing and left to make preparations for the trip. Most were done by the time the Tarkheena left. Romel and his crew had returned to their camp to make the necessary preparations as well. The nomads were getting ready to leave.

Oreius was asked to remain in Narnia and manage the army. Kanell, having recently become a father, was required to stay with Xati, and Celer was visiting family in the north. The only one available to join them was a Leopard, named Oncai, who was almost seventeen years old. Very old for her kind and very arrogant – with good reason. She was often right. She was massive, much more so than her younger siblings. One of her sisters, a black Panther, was a messenger who frequently traveled between Narnia and Archenland. She and Susan were close friends.

Edmund spoke only briefly with Oncai before he asked for her help. He didn't expect anyone to jump up in joy, but was still surprised when she hesitated. "Captain? Are you alright?"

The regal Animal stared at him before she made to answer his question. "Yes, my king."

"Will you accept the mission?" Edmund hadn't felt comfortable ordering his soldiers to babysit him and his brother while they trekked through the Narnian wilderness. He hoped there would be enough volunteers.

She sat in front of his desk as he signed the latest supply-order for the armor smithies. He sent a little note with. The master smith was a personal friend of his. "May I speak freely, King Edmund?" Her voice was calm with just a touch of superiority; a general trait in Great Cats.

"Please do," Edmund leaned forward and looked deep into her eyes. Her self-confidence didn't intimidate him. It would have once, but those days were long gone.

"Is it true we are accompanying the Irins?"

He nodded.

Her eyes brightened and she seemed about to ask something else, but changed her mind at the last second.

It was a new trait to see in her. She was usually very upfront. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask them." He kept his voice calm.

"It is not important," She smirked in her feline way. "When do you wish to depart?"

"Tomorrow by noon. We'll follow the gypsies for a week or so."

"Might I enquire as to the _length_ of our journey?"

"I expect us to be gone for a month and a half." He looked at her patiently.

"Very well," She nodded. "Have you already chosen the soldiers you wish to travel with?"

And _this_ was why he had chosen her. "No," He shook his head and came to stand in front of the desk. "I was hoping you would help me choose. The path is rough. It follows along a mountain trail beyond Narnia. After the mountains we'll be travelling through forested land for most of the way."

"You require soldiers with climbing skills?"

He knew she already had a list of possible candidates. "Also hunters and scouts. Twenty total." Warriors he had in abundance.

"As you wish, your grace." She bowed and was excused.

Edmund turned back to look out his window. He had a view of the western forest and a partial view of the northern mountains. A deep sigh escaped him and he wondered what Romel would say when he learned the high king was joining them. Too much had happened in the last years for Peter to be comfortable letting his brother journey alone. Edmund knew the fiasco from ten months ago had also strained the relationship between them.

They had then, unknowingly led their soldiers into the Cruel's territory. She had punished them by bringing each of them a nightmare. Three days later they had all been found asleep, in the middle of the forest. None would speak of what they had seen.

Peter and Edmund never spoke of what they saw in that one nightmare. Their sisters never dared to ask. Peter was slowly beginning to forget in his waking hours, Edmund knew, but at night the strange visions would haunt them both. Edmund still sometimes saw flashes in the daytime. A dead city on the banks of a massive, dried-out river. A red sun, hovering over the land.

Peter and he were slowly beginning to understand who the girl had been. Only from the memories she had shown them, they guessed she was a relative of Jadis'. Edmund guessed she was her daughter.

He left his study with a destination in mind.

Earlier in the year they had set out hunting for her. As the snow melted. Oreius had promised to keep searching while they were away.

Edmund left the Cair, heading to the camp area where the gypsies lived. On his way there he was reminded of that frightful day. They needed to find her. It still made him shiver to think of Jadis or any descendant of hers, even after all these years. What she did to him. What she could have done. He had never even seen the worst of her rage and it had still left him with scars that would never heal. But the thing that haunted him most, the thing that gave him those horrible nightmares, was the fear that Peter somehow _knew_.

He had suspected since that encounter last fall, that his brother had somehow shared his nightmare. That he had seen exactly what Jadis did to him. It made him draw back. Pull away from his brother's searching eyes. His self-imposed isolation had in turn turned Peter from him. Now the brothers could hardly stand to be in the room with one another for longer than a minute. Edmund, because of his shame. Peter, because of his hurt and anger.

"King Edmund!" Zoren shouted. He came over with a smile. "Are you here to see Romel?"

"Yes."

"Shall I take you to him?"

"Thank you." Edmund smiled the best he could and pushed the grim memories away.

The guild leader led the way to Romel's camp, but didn't follow him in. He just gestured for Edmund to enter and swerved off before Romel spotted him. The Just king wondered if the guild leader was avoiding Romel for some reason.

"The king returns." a familiar voice said. Romel greeted him with a warm handshake. "How were things after we left?"

"That's what I came here to speak with you about."

He nodded at Edmund's somber tone and led them into his tent. "Sit down." He poured them some tea; something Edmund had never seen him do, and offered a cup to the dark-haired king. "What's on your mind?"

"My brother." Edmund tried not to sigh as he sipped the tea. "He's decided to come with us." He looked up to catch the fleeting look so shock on Romel's face. "You're surprised?" Despite his estrangement to Peter, he still felt protective of him. His brother had every right to join them.

"A little," Romel nodded thoughtfully. "But I figured he might, after we met with you all. He's very protective of you." He smirked.

Edmund smiled at faded memories. Golden days when brothers had been brothers. Not distant kings, only bonded by blood. "Does _that_ surprise you?"

"Not in the least."

Both chuckled. "I've assembled a team of twenty under the guidance of my captain Oncai." He took another sip. "We'll be accompanied by the very best royal guards. Climbers, hunters and scouts."

Romel nodded with a weak smile. "I have every confidence in you."

Edmund stiffened and looked up from under his dark bangs. "You shouldn't."

The leader of the Irins froze and stared at the young king.

"Just because we might make you feel safe, doesn't mean you should think yourself free from harm."

Romel frowned. "Edmund, I know this." He leaned forward. "What's really bothering you?"

The young king set down the tea and completely ignored the question. "The reason I'm not bringing chargers is because of _you_ all. We'll be more than enough warriors on this trip with the Irins at our sides. Better to leave my best and bravest at home to protect the kingdom."

Romel frowned, but didn't push the subject. "I agree," he eventually said. His voice soft.

Edmund picked up the cup. "Good." They sat another minute in silence. Edmund, hoping to avoid any conversation that involved his brother. Romel unfortunately looked like he was trying to think of something to talk about. Before he could open his mouth, Edmund interrupted him. "Where are the others?"

He rubbed his eyes, momentarily confused by the break of thought. "Valera is helping the others pack. Nimwey and Archer are walking the perimeter." He groaned in thought. "I thought Lauviah said something about checking on your guests this morning?"

Ed nodded. "She joined us for lunch today. Cor is healing nicely."

He gestured to Edmund's arm. "And how about you?"

"Also healing." Ed smirked, but felt more transparent than he had in years. It was unsettling to know that his friend could read him almost as well as his siblings could. As well as Peter used to.

"Good."

Silence fell again. It was like a fly that just wouldn't die. It buzzed around in the room, searching for an escape and was only ever met with more walls. Traps to keep it ensnared. Eventually Romel saved them both. "Anything else?" he asked casually.

Edmund finished and stood. All too happy to leave. "No. We'll meet here tomorrow. One hour after noon?"

"Sounds fine."

He nodded and left. As he exited he offered only a departing remark. "Stay well." He didn't see, nor did he _want_ to see, the way Romel looked at his back.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning the kings awoke to a busy house, though they themselves had no pressing obligations. Both spent the pre-noon training with Cor and Corin since Susan and Lucy were covering their royal duties. The princes had been given the day off from studies and had elected to spend it with Edmund and Peter in the training grounds. "Good. Now swing up," Edmund slowly directed. Cor did as told. The boy seemed to have a very ambiguous way of moving. At once he wanted to run through each move with surgical precision, simultaneously having an almost intuitive fighting style that drove him to frustration after more than one repetition. He easily anticipated moves and blocked them.<p>

Edmund quickly realized that Cor was destined to become a great swordsman. His brother as well, though not as good as the crown prince. The younger brother had a tendency to swing wildly and get overworked. Peter was the perfect sparring partner for him. A calm and steeling influence.

"Very good." Edmund praised when Cor remembered a move and copied it perfectly. "Now swing your elbow back and thrust the tip out." He did as told. Edmund admired the control he had over his body. He wished he had had that kind of control when he was his age.

To the side he heard: "_We'll make a swordsman of you yet_," and saw Peter going through a series of blocks with Corin. The youngest twin was constantly complaining that Peter wasn't teaching him enough offensive moves. Peter remained calm and explained that defense came first. This was the seventh time the young prince had complained and Peter still looked as calm as he did in the beginning.

Ed supposed that was why Oreius had paired them the way he had. He understood that Edmund and Corin would only work each other into frenzy. Perhaps even that Peter wouldn't have been able to push Cor forward the way Edmund could? The training ended relatively early when Oreius announced that he had an exercise planned for the new recruits. Something that would benefit the princes as well. Ed and Peter knew Oreius' "exercises" very well and quickly excused themselves.

They left Cor and Corin in the dark about the torture they were about to experience and grinned wickedly on the way to the armory. Undressing from their armor took a lot of time any day. That left a lot of time for conversations to be had. A lot of time that was spent trying to avoid it. "Have you packed provisions?" Peter asked.

"Panicus is overseeing the packing." Panicus was a Bonobo Monkey. He looked a lot like his distant cousins, the Chimpanzees, and scowled whenever someone would mistake him for one. He was also Susan's first assistant.

"Good choice."

"Mine or Susan's?" Ed quirked a brow. "It was pure luck she didn't just order Panicus to run Court and come with us herself."

Peter smiled and relinquished his shield. "Every little bit helps. I was actually wondering if I should invite Lucy along as well? She's hardly been to the western wild since the White Days." The White Days were a common description of Jadis' reign.

"She has her own things to deal with." Edmund helped his brother to unbuckle his pauldrons. "I heard she was given another invitation to Terebinthia by queen Hira."

Peter smiled warmly. "They love her out there," He glanced at his brother's downturned head. "Both of you."

Ed glanced up and pretended not be bashful about the praise. "Yes. Well they're easily impressed." He and Peter removed the last of their armor and headed for the room. A little cleaning up would be required for their lunch plans. Lucy said she wanted one last meal with them both before they left. "They've actually become quite impressive miners. The Dwarves helped immensely."

"I was hoping to get Lucy something pretty for her birthday. Maybe King Baskar would send me a gem stone? Or should I perhaps go get it myself?"

They reached the room and greeted the two Centaurs outside their door. "They'd probably appreciate the visit. Even if you announced outright that you just came to get a birthday present for our dear sister."

"I'd have to leave a couple of days after we return to make it, though."

Edmund huffed and shrugged out of his sweaty tunic. "Her birthday's three and a half months away, Peter. You _have_ time."

"Can't hurt to be prepared. Have you thought on what to give her yet?"

Ed smirked. "I gave her a ship. I never bother with presents anymore. Nothing tops that."

The older brother rolled his eyes. "That was eight years ago, Edmund. You'll have to get her _something_."

He decided it was too much fun, jerking his brother's chain to stop. "Why?"

He swung a pillow after him. "You dolt."

Ed dodged and smiled. The rumple earned them a scowl from Silvo, which they ignored the second the Faun left the room. They raced each other to the balcony and were smiling when they stepped out into the sunshine. Lucy was already setting the table. Susan wasn't there yet. Their youngest sister smiled when she saw them. "Hullo, boys." She moved a platter of salted pork over to the table. Tea was already chilling and fresh bread was scenting the wind.

Edmund smiled and kissed her cheek, once again praising Aslan for giving him such blessings. He took the seat next to her. Peter sat across. "Where's Su?"

"She's coming soon." Lucy answered and set another platter onto the table. "There was trouble with some of the kitchen staff."

"What trouble?" Edmund asked and stole a slice of dark bread.

"Something about delayed wages. I think they'll mount a strike if we don't increase their pay."

Edmund groaned and earned a stern glare from his brother. "The scullions are some of the hardest working people in the Cair, Edmund."

As if he didn't know. "Stop saying my name like that."

"Like what?" Peter asked innocently.

"Like I've done something wrong."

"But you _are_ wrong, _Edmund_."

He growled and threw the slice after his brother. Peter easily dodged and earned an affectionate pet from Lucy in passing. "Don't throw food, Peter."

"I didn't!" He pointed at Edmund. "Call _him_ out."

"Edmund only gives what he receives." She hid her grin as she sat down. "And from the way his hair is so messy I suspect you've already thrown something at him today? A pillow perhaps?"

Peter looked perturbed while Edmund just smiled wickedly. "How does she know that?"

Ed shrugged and kissed her cheek. "She has more spies than I do."

Lucy smiled brightly and was about to explain that it wasn't about how _many_ spies one had, as long as they were in the right places, when Susan interrupted. "Oh I'm sorry," She looked stressed. Every line of her body was stiff with tension, but she bore it like a queen. "You should just have started without me."

"When have you ever known us to leave you out, dear sister?" Peter asked and kissed her cheek as she sat.

She smiled and seemed to deflate a little. "Tea or coffee?" Lucy asked, hand hovering over the two pots, ready to hand a full cup to her sister.

"Coffee, please." Susan nodded and gratefully accepted the beverage.

"I hear the kitchens are giving you trouble?" Edmund mumbled through a sip.

"No trouble." She smiled. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good girl," Peter affectionately praised.

She slouched. Her downcast eyes rolled which garnered a chuckle from Lucy. The meal progressed much in the same manner. Speaking and joking casually. The sun sparkled brilliantly in the heavens. The hour passed all too quickly. It was ironic, Edmund thought, that they should all get along so well on the day of departure. But alas, the lunch ended and both queens followed their brothers to the courtyard.

Both had matters to attend and would otherwise have followed Peter and Edmund a bit of the way. Lucy had considered following them as far as Cauldron Pool, but couldn't when an Archenland ambassador had been scheduled to arrive later in the day. The goodbyes were the same as always. Filled with well wishes and orders from both queens for their brothers to return in one piece.

Lucy watched Susan kiss Peter on the forehead and smiled when Edmund came over to give his proper farewell to the youngest sister. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. With a smile she stopped him before he could address Susan. "I have something for you." She pulled out a tiny vial on a chain. "Just in case one of our soldiers gets hurt."

"Oh, Lucy. I can't take that-"

"Stop it this instant. It's _my_ cordial and I can give to whoever I please." She jangled the chain. "Take it. Put it somewhere safe."

He took it with a bashful smile and another kiss. She beamed as he approached Susan. Peter came over, smiling. "Goodbye, darling." He pulled her tight in a hug. Lucy was the only one who still allowed the close contact. Edmund was pulling away more and more each day and Susan never needed much physical comfort to begin with.

"I have something for you." She pulled out a second chain with the same contents. "Look after Edmund."

Peter didn't argue and even nodded diligently. "I will." He kissed her forehead and turned, following his brother and mounting his horse. They were celebrated with smiles and waves as they left their home.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Things look almost hopeful in this one, don't they? :)


	11. Chapter 10: The High Priestess

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it it's not mine.

**Author's Note: **This chapter was inspired by "The Orange Words" by hever - check it out if you have a moment. The text in italics was written by your's truly.

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: "The High Priestess"<strong>

_"It is said the sun caught her golden hair. Her smiles lit up the forest. That hers was a beauty, not obvious to all, but obvious to a king. As brilliant as daylight. Was the king to live but one day without his lovely Persephone he would have died. He could not have spent a mere second away from his love, but perhaps had he been able to he would then have been free. What a sad tragedy to be bound to such a lovely creature. To someone who knew not what she was or how radiant her glow was. An immortal in the shape of a girl was who the king chose to love. Even more stunning than her hair or smiles or her heart was her wisdom."_

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><p>They left the Cair on horseback, but only because Phillip had insisted to come as far as the terrain would allow him. From Cauldron Pool and beyond, the journey would be taken on foot. The two kings reached Zoren's clan to find them waiting with Romel and his crew.<p>

They all set out from Owl Wood in a slow pace. The gypsies kept the mood light as they walked by singing or playing their instruments. Edmund and Peter were satisfied to watch from atop their horses and smile. Romel and his pack brought up the rear behind the kings' guards. They spoke as well, but didn't smile as much. Edmund could already feel the tension climbing. It seemed for some reason that his armor rested heavily on his shoulders. Phillip whickered at the children who had never seen a Talking Horse, and who squealed when he laughed.

By nightfall they had already crossed the Great River and the Beavers' dam. They had traveled along the southern banks of Cauldron Springs to the edge of the Western Woods. It would only take them a couple of hours into the next day to reach Cauldron Pool. Edmund felt weary being in the area again. They weren't terribly far from where his entire troop was once slaughtered. The same trees grew here as they did there. The topography looked similar. Every inch of it brought back memories Edmund wished he didn't have.

The gypsies all settled for the evening and began preparing their meals. The Narnians ate away from the others, in a camp not far from the Irins'. Peter had noticed his brother's tension as they drew nearer to the western border. He didn't know how to alleviate the fears he knew his brother harbored. All he could think of was why Edmund wouldn't talk to him as he hunched in front of a fire, next to his brother.

Oncai and one of her scouts, Spavia Glora, were out walking the perimeter. Spavia was a tiny Shrew that had accompanied Peter on his quest to find Edmund the last time. Since then she had become a favored scout of his. Her sense of smell was unrivaled and she was easily overlooked which made her well-fitted for sneaking around where she shouldn't be. He hoped his siblings never learned of the things she had done for him. Mostly involving spying on Edmund or enemies of his.

Peter frowned when one of the women from Romel's group came over. She was smiling prettily, but didn't fool _him_ like she did Edmund. She was an assassin as much as the rest of them. "Hello, my kings." she greeted. Before Peter could say anything Edmund had risen and was giving her his seat.

"I figured most of you would be asleep by now," he said, smiling back. Peter was thankful to be ignored at that moment and decided to leave.

"I'll see if I can't find Oncai." He saw the nod from his brother through his peripheral vision, but didn't see the way Edmund stared until he was out of sight.

"What brings you here?" the Just King asked Lauviah after his brother had left. A few of the Narnians were sitting with them around the fire, but surprisingly enough most were enjoying the company of the gypsies.

"I wanted to speak with you," She smiled and made herself comfortable. "Sit?"

He obeyed and crossed his legs. "Speak to me about what?"

Her smile widened. "About what you've been up to for the past two years. About. . ." She sighed and looked into the dark sky. "About what it's _like_ to be king. What your home is like."

His expression softened when he realized she had probably missed her old home more than he could ever imagine. To be separated from Narnia for eight hundred years would have shattered him. "Stressful." He smirked when she giggled.

She sobered when she noticed that his smile didn't quite seem as genuine as it should. "Edmund?" He looked up. She suddenly felt insecure if it was her place to ask such questions. Surely he had people to talk with when he felt distraught. "I only ask because you seem like you've aged ten years since last we saw you."

He tried to smile again, but felt it vanish pitifully fast. "I've missed you, I think."

She smiled and grabbed his hand in her own. "If your brother lets us, we'll stay this time. Bring our families with us."

"How many of you _have_ families?" he asked, trying not to think what would happen if his brother said no.

"Well I, myself, have none. Only Romel and Hale, but they're just as much mine as they are the others'." She sighed and tried to think of a way to answer his question properly. "Nimwey doesn't have any family, I think. Elijah's family is in Calormen."

"Where _is_ Elijah? And Stell. Haven't seen them around." He felt his heart thud when her expression fell.

"Elijah is with his family," She glanced down. "Stell died two months ago." She shuddered. "It's the reason we decided to come."

Edmund nodded. No doubt they had been reminded that they were no longer immortal. Maybe even felt fear of dying? He hadn't spoken very much with Stell while he was with them, but felt saddened by the news. Time slowed somehow. His heart beat slower. "How did he die?" he whispered.

"Killed. We were heading back from Archenland when we were attacked."

His body tensed and his voice hardened. "By who?"

"Calormenes."

He nodded and looked into the fire. She retracted her hand and joined him in watching the hissing flames. The noises around them grew as each sank into their own mind. Edmund could feel the day's journey finally sneaking up on him. He needed sleep if he was to be of any use tomorrow.

"I hear you spoke with Zoren?" she asked, rather out of the blue.

Edmund distantly glanced at her and nodded.

"He was a friend of the man who raised Romel, Hale and me." She smiled, but it didn't seem as joyful as before.

"I noticed he's not in charge of all the gypsies? Zoren." The question popped into his mind and beckoned to be uttered. An easy way to take his mind off the sadness that seemed a constant companion these days. Edmund hadn't been aware that more than one guild was present during this year's summer fair.

"Be very careful before you ask any more questions about the gypsies. Their families and allegiances are very complicated." She took the change in topics with a sigh of relief.

He exhaled quickly through his nose with a smirk. "I _want_ to know."

"Well there are three major houses." She smiled at his cheeky grin and snuggled deeper into her seat. "All the guilds serve one of the three. Zoren is patriarch of the Rudari guild after marrying the only daughter of the previous patriarch. The Rudari guild serves the Lyuli house."

"How many guilds are there?"

She shrugged. "I've met patriarchs from fifteen so far. The houses that rule all the guilds are Lyuli, Luri and Zlatari. Each of the three houses has acting authority over all the guilds under it."

"Like a government?"

"Somewhat," She drawled and took a deep breath. "You see, the last Lyuli Chief, Spear-"

"His name was _Spear_?" Edmund chuckled.

She smiled with. "Don't laugh. But yes. _Spear_ died and left the rule of the Lyuli house to his eldest son Spalo." She seemed so engrossed in the tale that Edmund found himself pulled in effortlessly. She reminded him of Lucy when she spoke. "Zoren is Spalo's younger brother, but the two don't speak and rumors-"

"My gosh, it's so complicated-"

"_Rumors_ are. . . that Spalo is in league with the Telmarines in the north."

A shiver raced down Edmund's spine. "Is there any truth to it?"

She seemed oblivious to his discomfort. "I don't think so, but for some reason the brothers don't get along." She smiled again and almost lost herself to giggles. "Personally I think it's because Miriam, the daughter of the deceased Estal Rudari – the previous patriarch of the Rudari guild – was given to Zoren instead of Spalo. She's very beautiful and the oldest Lyuli son had quite the crush on her until Spear renegotiated their union and married her off to Zoren instead."

"You weren't lying," Edmund muttered. He could already feel his head swimming. And he knew he should be more worried about the mention of a possible Telmarine threat, but just couldn't oversee the information at that moment.

She giggled. "Their history is quite complex. No one knows where they come from and most think they're descendants of the Telmarines."

Edmund nodded. "Sounds logical."

"That's what Romel says. I think something much more romantic happened." She smiled secretly, just itching to share her version of events.

"Like what?" Edmund caught himself from sighing. He wasn't much for fairytales.

"I think a Telmarine son and a Calormene daughter eloped together. I think they ran north, into these woods and hid."

"And sired and entire _race_?" He couldn't help the indignant tone, but she just giggled.

"Yes!" She slapped his arm. "What? Not heroic enough for you?"

He huffed and allowed the light mood to fester. It would die the second his brother returned, anyway. Might as well enjoy a few moments of it. "No, no. Not that. You're probably right. I hardly think they sprung out of the soil if that's the only alternative."

She let out a real laugh and almost fell over. "Should I continue?"

He let out a peal of laughter as well, quite unaware that it traveled all through the various camps and made everyone who heard, smile. "Please do. It's been awhile since I've heard gossip this good."

"This is not _gossip_!" She sounded offended, but couldn't hide her smile. "This is valuable information for the next time you greet Zoren. His full name is Zoren Lyuli Rudari. And you greet him with the title of Pater."

Edmund's brow climbed to his forehead. "So I greet him: Pater Zoren Lyuli Rudari?"

"Yes. Officially."

He let out another great laugh and made her smile as well. "I'll never remember all of that-"

"Remember all of what?" Peter's unexpected voice interrupted Edmund's laugh. He entered the camp and took a seat next to a huntress of Oncai's group. A Mountain Lioness named Vala. She had been listening delightedly to the Just King's conversation.

Edmund felt his bubbling joy instantly simmer down to a strenuous embarrassment. "Lauviah was telling me about the complex infrastructure of the nomad-society, Brother."

Peter nodded and received a piece of spit-grilled meat from Vala. "Thank you. Sounds interesting. Don't let me interrupt you."

Edmund glanced down briefly, but turned diligently back to Lauviah. Where there had been jokes and questions a moment ago there was now only darkness. Blankness. Lauviah appeared aware when she suddenly rose. "No. I'm sorry. I've kept you," she said to Edmund. He was about to interrupt when she bade them goodnight and excused herself.

As she left Edmund felt an all too familiar ire resurface. His expression darkened as he turned to glare at his brother. "Nicely done, Peter."

"What? I didn't ask her to leave." He seemed indifferent.

"No, but she knows you don't like her."

"I hardly know her well enough to dislike her."

"Well don't _trust_ them then,"

Peter's expression darkened. It was enough for the Narnians around them to notice. They all discretely rose and left. "And why should I? They've hardly done anything to earn that trust."

"They saved my life!" Edmund rose.

"They _left_ you-" his brother interrupted.

"You'll have to learn to get along with them." he pushed on, ignoring his brother's sting.

"I am!" Peter barked and made his brother cower just a little. "I'm not being impolite, I'm not calling them out on all the things I'd like-"

"You're not even aware that you're doing it!" He could feel something inside his chest ripping. "You act like everything is normal, but you're not fooling _anyone_." He ran a hand through his hair. "You should just stick to honesty, Peter. You've never been any good at lying."

"Because it's not exactly something to be proud of, _Edmund_." he said pointedly.

The Just King nodded and backed away as if struck. "I should be more like you then?"

"No! A little less like _them_ would do well enough-"

Edmund huffed and turned.

"Don't walk away from me!" Peter sprang to his feet.

Edmund swiveled around and jutted an index finger at his brother. "Then stop treating me like a stranger!" His bark traveled through the encampment and left no one unaware that the two were fighting.

"_I'm_ treating _you_ like a stranger?" Peter's voice lowered to a deadly growl.

Edmund shook his head and turned away. "I knew this was a bad idea,"

"Then why did you accept?" Peter barked at his retreating back.

"Because _someone_ had to!" he fired off before he left to find a spot of solitude. He searched for longer than he would have liked. He had to leave the camp area entirely until he found a moonlit spot.

He didn't see Peter sink down after he left. He didn't see the desolate expression on his face.

The spot he found was a stone's throw away from the camps. Close enough that glimpses of campfires filtered through the dense pine branches. Far enough that he could see the moon clearly. It was a hunter's moon. He wondered if any of their nocturnal hunters were out, scouting for prey. He wondered how many, like himself, were having trouble sleeping under the fluorescent moon. His thoughts wandered to the one group besides his own, he could call friends. The Irins.

He glanced in the direction he had come and, with a sigh, started heading back into the camps. He crossed Zoren's and offered the guild patriarch and his wife a nod. He suspected the people around them were children of theirs. He counted seven. Five boys and two girls. Each one followed him with their eyes until he was out of sight. In fact everyone did. Every fire he passed, he would meet searching stares. Each new look made him all the more desperate to escape.

Seconds away from sprinting back into the forest, he heard a voice. "Kid."

He looked into a shade at a looming figure. A silhouette he knew very well. "Arthur." He smiled and grabbed the hand that was extended to him. "What are you doing out this late?"

"There's a Porcupine telling scary stories around our fire. I'm not much for thrills. Have enough of those without fantasizing about them as well."

Edmund felt a smile pull his lips taut. "Ahh, that's Gustav. He _does_ enjoy entertaining people." The old Porcupine lived in these parts alone and very much enjoyed entertaining visitors.

Arthur chuckled and reached an arm around Edmund's back. "What was all that commotion in your camp before?"

"You heard that." Edmund stated. He realized the cause of all the stares he had gotten and groaned.

"Everyone did, pup."

"I'm nineteen. Hardly a _pup_ anymore."

"You can call me 'Red' if that helps, but the nickname is probably never going away." Both chuckled.

"How does one go about getting the surname 'Redmane'?"

"Not so much a surname as it is a title." His voice flattened a little.

Edmund attentively took the cue and moved onto safer subjects. "Where are you taking me?"

"Back to Gustav, the story-telling Porcupine."

He huffed and smiled in the warmth of the friendly voice. They reached the campfire and his troubles diminished in the heat of it. In the lights of his friends' smiles. At least for the night. He didn't remember how late it was when he returned to his own camp. He didn't remember Peter waiting for him, when he stumbled drunkenly towards his tent. He didn't remember said brother helping him into bed and slipping off his boots before leaving.

It was all a blur.

* * *

><p>The next morning, they were awake at dawn. Well, everyone except Edmund. He just groaned and rolled over, slipping a pillow over his head. "Ed, wake up."<p>

"Nnnn. . ." A deep sigh. "Mm." A light rain was thrumming against the tent. Enhancing smells. His bed was so warm. So soft.

"Yes." The slap of a shirt, hitting him over the head. "Up. Now." The voice didn't sound as angry as it had the night before. Just resigned.

Edmund opened his eyes to mere slits and glared at the intruder. "Why are you in my tent?"

"To wake you. Breakfast is waiting for you."

"Tell it to wait a little longer. 'M not hungry." His voice muffled when he mashed his face into the pillow.

"How much did you drink last night? You smell like the bottom of a vine barrel." Peter frowned and picked up the worn clothing from the night before. "Go outside, let the rain wash it off."

"Dun' _wan_noo."

Peter ripped his covers off with an audible growl.

"Pete' stop'ee'!"

"Get up!" He yanked the pillow out from under him as well and slapped him over the head with it. "Your friends are outside."

Edmund lashed out and almost caught his brother in the stomach, but the high king was just fast enough. For a second he forgot his sadness and had to stifle a huff. It helped he knew the attack would come as it did every time someone tried to wake Edmund the Just.

"I'd let _you_ sleep," Ed growled and rubbed his face.

Peter, recognizing the signs that his brother was waking up, deemed the task complete and went outside.

People were already up and _doing_ things. Making a general ruckus as they repacked their tents and cleaned up their camps. Edmund stepped outside in nothing but his breeches and surveyed the area. The rain instantly cooled him as little drops slid down his muscled back and chest. He shivered, but the shock warmed him better than a fire would have. His muscles clenched and gained warmth all on their own. He spotted an overhang that sheltered Romel, Arthur, Valera and Lauviah from the rain. The Narnians and Peter were running around, packing everything. The nomads as well. Apparently Edmund was the last one up.

He went over and sat down with a thump. Arthur grinned. "How do you feel?"

"Hung over." he growled. He sniffed a sliver of yesterday's rabbit and decided it was well enough to eat cold. A mug of ale and a pot of porridge were waiting for him as well.

"You get nothing you didn't earn." Romel said quietly. He was eating a bowl of porridge as well, sounding just as hung over.

"Why are you here?" Edmund wondered why they weren't busy packing up their own camp.

Romel looked at him a long moment, but Edmund hardly noticed through his headache and the food that suddenly became impossible not to inhale. "Where did you get those bruises?" he asked instead.

Edmund glanced down his own chest and saw the blue bruising there. He knew it was a remnant from his fight with Peter a few days prior. "Sparring."

"I never quite got the point of duels," Arthur commented in the back.

Edmund took another bite out of his very dead rabbit shank. "Is there a _reason_ for your visit?" The red-head's chucklle was interrupted by Romel's voice.

"This is your last chance to turn back." the leader of former immortals said.

Edmund stopped eating and looked up. Suddenly the three of them looked somber. The only one who still seemed blissfully ignorant was Arthur. "And why would I do that?" he asked carefully.

Romel shared a quick glance with Valera. "Because later on it might be too dangerous. The border of Narnia is two hours away. Beyond that it's not so safe."

"I know." Ed said, voice dark. "I've seen it, remember?" No one spoke. "Why would you retract your request _now_?"

"In case this trip was going to cause unrest between the kings." Valera answered for him.

Edmund had never known her to show much emotion beyond anger, but even this cool a tone made shivers tremble across his skin. "There's no unrest. Never been."

"That's not what we heard last night."

"Valera." Romel said quietly and looked up shyly at Ed. "I need those with us to keep a clear head."

"And you think we can't do that." Edmund concluded. He was very careful not to sound upset.

"I think you have enough problems without babysitting a group of fairytale warriors-"

"Narnians." Edmund looked around at their faces. "You are Narnians." He deliberately loosened his shoulders and returned to his breakfast with renewed vigor. "You're our responsibility to protect and we _will_ protect you as we would any other Narnians."

"Your brother seems-"

"My _brother_ is a king at heart and will act as such should the situation warrant it." Edmund asserted. His brother wasn't for them to doubt or analyze. "Any more questions?" He refused to acknowledge their doubts the same way he would any other who tried to pass judgment on Peter in any negative fashion.

"No. None." Romel finally answered.

"Good." He took a small bite out of the meat, though having lost his appetite. "Then I suggest you return to your packing as I will shortly do. There's much to be done."

They all rose. Romel bowed and left Edmund in shock. Romel had never bowed to him before and he wasn't sure he quite liked it. They left without a word. Only Lauviah glanced back and attempted to smile. Arthur lingered as if to say something, but changed his mind at the last minute.

* * *

><p>Cauldron Springs deepened and the water sped faster through the naturally carved canal the closer they came to the Pool. Edmund rode Phillip, quietly contemplating Romel's advice. He had the utmost faith in Peter, but feared the kind of danger that could scare the Irins so. It couldn't be just ogres and Telmarines that had the warriors in such a cautious state. Well maybe given <em>enough<em> of both, he could accept their fear. But the ogres had been fought off years ago and he doubted there were more than a few hundred left in the woods.

The Telmarines were another matter entirely. Whereas the ogres were becoming extinct, the Telmarines were multiplying.

"What's on your mind, Edmund?" Phillip asked quietly.

Edmund smirked as his old friend twisted his neck and looked back. "I'm wondering what to get Lucy for her birthday."

He puffed. "Liar." They were striding slowly towards the back of the group. Phillip usually never took such liberties around others. But the Narnians all knew of the relationship between him and his king whether or not heactually took those liberties. Half of them had unmatched hearing. The other half had surely heard the gossip.

"I wonder if we are as powerful as we think," He looked up at his brother's back. Peter was riding calmly a few meters in front of them.

"You underestimate yourself too often."

He smiled. "No doubt, one of my many flaws."

Phillip let out the equivalent of a Horse chuckle. "I could stay with you, if you'd like?"

He smiled wider and petted his mane affectionately. "You can't traverse the mountain pass, but thank you for the offer."

A few hoof-beats passed in silence before the Horse spoke again. "Is it the Irins you're worried of?"

"I'm worried _for_ them. I wonder why they would ask my help and then turn it down after a week. After speaking with me." The last part was muttered and hardly a conscious statement.

"I cannot speak for them," Phillip sighed. "But if I were to guess, I'd say because they found more than they expected."

"Or less." Edmund mumbled with another long look at Peter's back.

"No. No," Phillip leaned back and lipped his knee. "-definitely more."

His light voice tricked a chuckle from Edmund that made a couple of the guards look up and smile. "You give me more praise than I deserve."

"Well if not I, then who? You _are_ my Boy after all."

"Some would say I'm a man," Edmund answered dryly.

"Luckily I am here to correct them." Phillip answered with a wicker. His steps widened and a distinct bounce entered his walk. Edmund recognized it as a sign of humor. Happiness.

"But what if they wanted someone else? The man I was with them wasn't that different, but he wasn't _king_."

"Then they will get to know you and love you all over again." His voice softened. "Trust me, King Edmund." He huffed a fly away from his nose. "Would I lead you astray?" He nimbly sidestepped a rock.

Edmund smiled and once again petted his neck, this time grabbing a little tuft of mane and holding on. "No you wouldn't, old friend."

They reached Cauldron Pool after a few hours as promised. Zoren's closest friends, Romel, his pack and half the Narnians stopped and let the others continue. Edmund dismounted his friend and kept a hand on his neck. With a nod from Peter, he turned to bid the Horse goodbye.

"This is where we part,"

Phillip stretched and lipped his hair. "Only for a while, little one."

Ed smirked and slapped his neck jokingly. Phillip responded in kind by snapping at Edmund's jerkin. "Will you promise me to watch my sisters? Take Susan riding sometimes?"

Phillip paused at the sudden seriousness in Edmund's voice. He glanced down before he shared a look with one of the Centaurs who would also be bidding them farewell here. "I'm afraid I have other obligations in your absence."

Edmund looked at the Centaur and back to Phillip. "Which?"

"Myself and a small number of soldiers have been assigned to remain here in the area. A Flacon and a Sparrow will follow you and another Falcon will remain here shoud they send word. Should anything happen one of the Falcons will act as messengers and return to Cair Paravel."

Edmund narrowed his eyes at the Horse and almost saw him shrink. "Did Lucy put you up to this?"

"Queen Susan." He stretched and lipped Ed's hair again in a meek attempt to apologize. "Fear not. _Should_ something happen, be it to you or the queens, we will hear. The Falcons will fly back and warn us."

"And Cillo?" It was the Centaur captain that had accompanied them.

"He does what we all do – what Oreius trains us to do: Go where we are needed." He pushed Edmund back a step with his muzzle. "Don't worry so much."

Edmund couldn't completely wipe the frown from his face, but embraced Phillip nevertheless. He saw Peter shaking hands with Cillo and knew his brother was aware of the Centaur's task. He just wished someone had bothered to let him know.

As he left, he glanced back and saw his Horse nod. A sign of comfort and trust. He sided up next to Lauviah and Arthur. His brother was walking at the front with Zoren. He could see the two speaking quietly together. They were probably going over the various campsites they would utilize. After their group detached from Zoren's.

Lauviah noticed his long stare and closer. With a compassionate smile she reached out and roped her arm with his. "You probably wondered a great deal why Romel bowed to you last night?"

Edmund didn't give any sign that he heard. He kept his eyes stuck on his brother and tried not to glance at Romel. Beside him Arthur glanced over.

"You're a _king_, Edmund." She sighed. "He doesn't know what to make of that."

"Does that give him the right to treat me as a stranger?" His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.

Arthur didn't speak, but his expression saddened. He ached to see his friend in such misery. It hurt even more, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

Lauviah's eyes saddened immeasurabl and she shared a look with Arthury. "Give him time." She refocused on the path, but didn't let go of the king's arm. "He'll come around."

On Edmund's other side Arthur reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>The made-up hierarchy of the nomads is one of the few things that I'm quite proud of. I know it didn't seem like a lot from what you just read, but I've got three pages of names and family relations in my notes that say otherwise. Hope you enjoyed it?


	12. Chapter 11: The Fisherman and the Jinni

**Disclaimer:** I never recycle anything that someone wrote before me. I only expand.

**Author's Note:** The part in italics is homemade by myself. No cpoyright intended. This chapter has three different story-lines, but the website is pissing me off by erasing the dividing line everytime I save the document. But I hope you find the shift in perspective yourselves when the story changes from Susan's point of view to Jazir's. Damn site... pi**es me off sometimes. And looking at it again it seems I was mistaken. Huh, apparantly computers DO respond to verbal abuse... Who knew?

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: "The Fisherman and the Jinni"<strong>

_"Release me from my chains, o evil lord! Take thine hands off mine so that I may move freely once again. I beg of you, unleash these locks that hold me. Demolish these walls that suffocate me. Let me roam free and make my decisions for myself. Allow my eyes to gaze upon the plains of my home. Let my soul wander as it was always supposed to."_

* * *

><p>The scout came to Cair Paravel in the dead of night. Most occupants of the castle were sound asleep. All except for the nocturnal Animals, who made up most of the night guard, and Susan. She was reading one of the books from the royal library. A unique specimen of The Tale of Galdar, the Terebinthian Knight who killed a Tisroc. It was a story from the fifth century, and most believed it to be fiction. Only the Calormene scribes knew the truth.<p>

Susan was so engrossed in the story, more captivated than she had been by a book in years, that she jumped when someone knocked on her door. She quickly slapped the book closed and sat straight. "Enter!"

The Fauns outside opened the door to Tarvi. Her elongated, muscled body slid across the floor until she was facing her queen. "An urgent message from King Lune, your Majesty."

Susan rolled out of bed and followed the Panther when she hurried out of the room only seconds after delivering her message. The general quickly took her to a sitting room where a man was waiting.

He rolled out of his seat when the queen arrived. Three guards had been stationed outside the room on Tarvi's command. The Panther stopped just inside the room. "He says he brings urgent news. His name-"

"-is Mallad Cyrion, yes I know." Susan surged forward and grasped his hand in welcome. He was King Lune's personal, and most loyal, guard. "What brings you here at this hour?"

He looked winded and terribly worried. "I bring news from King Lune. A force of five hundred men is marching for the keep. They intend to siege Anvard."

Susan's hands unconsciously went to her mouth. "Fetch my sister." she said to Tarvi. The Panther sped soundlessly from the room. Susan then noticed Mallad's weariness and bade him sit. "Where are the men now?"

"They've reached the Red Mountains, south of Anvard."

Susan was about to respond when her sister burst into the room. "What happened? Who's here?" She recognized Mallad and instantly softened. "Oh no. It's serious." She stepped forward and took his hands in hers.

"We need help." he whispered.

Susan and Lucy shared a look. "And Narnia will give it."

* * *

><p>A captain sat atop his horse and shivered. It was cold this far north. Even though it was still summer, he missed the heat. The Great Desert. On word of his new commander he had taken five hundred men into the devilish country north of Calormen. He hadn't even known its name until he joined the army. Not many knew of the small waste of space between Calormen and Narnia. Not many would think to look there for an army.<p>

He smiled into the night. It was clear and stars brightened everything a little.

Jazir was a very smart man for hiding a fraction of his army in this forsaken land. Not enough to draw attention, but just enough to turn the tides when the war began. But the captain was not precisely sure where he was supposed to hide. Surely the small country had more than enough mountains and as many caves, but how was he supposed to find them? He glanced back at his soldiers. Half of them were deserters from the royal army. The other half were too fat, too slow, too young or too old to be of any real use. It was not ideal conditions under which he was serving, but beyond his lust for money and power, he had beliefs. Beliefs that were shared by Al-Jazir. Governed by Al-Jazir.

If the Kahen told him to go north, he went north. There was little room to question a man as close to Tash as Jazir. That was what he told himself as they climbed higher up a mountain and the night became colder.

Until the very last ounce of energy had been spent, he prayed. And _then_ he saw it. A massive rift in the ground. A rocky knife, tearing out of the soft soil. And in that rock wall was a hole. A black void that was surely their salvation. A massive cave entrance symbolized the answer to his prayers, his confirmation of trust in Jazir, and his confidence in the coming war.

* * *

><p>He watched the paper with a grimace of disgust. It was getting wetter. The air was heavier than usual and leaded clouds often rolled over the skies. That meant winter in the north and something he had never seen: Snow. He looked out his window and wondered again what his life would have looked like had he not been born a Tisroc.<p>

He had made a startling realization. It came to him as Jazir's son bled out on the floor. As Luz heaved deep, war-lusting breaths above his corpse. Shehyzan hated his children. He hated his country. He hated his life. But it was understandable. He had served longer than any Tisroc before him. Most died young and fat. Usually killed by their sons. He had long ago started betting on which of his sons would finish him.

For a while he had thought perhaps one of the Narnian kings would manage the task. He wondered why they hadn't.

Regardless, he was not built to worry. His ministers worried for him. He was above them all and anyone who wished could come for him. He smiled and wiped his sweaty neck with a hand. He had nothing to fear about the Narnian sovereigns. They were children, playing grownup games. They could easily be controlled and manipulated. All he had to do was phrase it properly.

With a sick smile he tapped the pen in ink and began writing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I had a moment of doubt the other day. I was afraid I was making the story TOO confusing to follow. I hope you're all still hanging on. It will start clearing up soon.


	13. Chapter 12: Death

**Disclaimer: **I have now tried communicating with C. S. Lewis through a quija board to ask him to give me his publishing rights. No one's answering so far, but I'm persistent. I will prevail! Until then I'm stuck with writing up a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter. I'm pretty sure someone said something at one time about repitition. Oh yes... repeating the same task over and over, but expecting different results is the mark of insanity. So...color me insane?

**Author's Note:** Edmund has a rather nasty experience in this one. Most of you probably half forgot that this occurance ever existed, but that's why I'm here: To remind you of all the nasty things you'd rather remained forgotten. :) Oh and the passage in italics is from one of Edgar Allan Poe's wonderful works called _Ligeia_. And again the website is proving extremely difficult. It refuses to let me seperate the different sections in this story as I see fit. Maybe it'll fix itself like it did last time, but just in case: The part in italics in the actual chapter is a dream. :) Not that _that_ should come as a surprise to anyone who's ever read _any_ fanfiction story before.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: "Death"<strong>

"_I cannot, for my soul, remember how, when, or even precisely where, I first became acquainted with the lady Ligeia. Long years have since elapsed, and my memory is feeble through much suffering. Or, perhaps, I cannot now bring these points to mind, because, in truth, the character of my beloved, her rare learning, her singular yet placid cast of beauty, and the thrilling and enthralling eloquence of her low musical language, made their way into my heart by paces so steadily and stealthily progressive that they have been unnoticed and unknown."_

* * *

><p>The forest rose around them like fingers, sticking out of black earth. They had walked for three days since crossing the mountain range. The first night they caught up with the rest of the gypsies. Already then the Narnians and Irins had made camp together in an attempt to get accustomed to the company of the others.<p>

The second and third day passed in silence. Most were busy walking. Watching where they stepped to avoid tripping. Some sang together, but nothing ever reached above a certain level. Everything appeared calm. It was probably why Edmund was so surprised when they reached their campsite the third afternoon. It was a small gorge, nestled between steep mountain sides. Each side, covered in pines. In the bottom of the gorge there was a small river. The smell of soil hung in the air. It was almost soothing. Romel told him the river was one of many that fused together and became one in Cauldron Pool.

Edmund recognized that river. The bend of it. The speed with which it traveled. The smell of it.

Camp was set a bit away. For some reason the gypsies wouldn't camp out in the open. There would be no tents erected that night. Everyone would sleep in their clothes and on the hard ground. The Narnians followed their example and only made a couple of fires. Peter had asked one of the Irins why the gypsies wouldn't pitch tents here. Edmund felt why. It was a slight undertone of unease that made him flinch at every unknown sound.

Arthur was peeling an apple with a knife across from him. Edmund jumped when Hale joined them, though quiet as a cat. He greeted the king with a measured nod, but said nothing else. Edmund nodded back before he returned to his view of the forest.

"Apple?" Arthur held out a slice of it to him. The man looked closely into Edmund's eyes as if searching for something.

Edmund took it after only a second's hesitation.

"You look nervous," Hale suddenly said. Valera and Arthur glanced at him before looking to Edmund.

Ed half shook his head and offered a weak smile. "Poor night's sleep, that's all." He stood up, but Arthur followed him. Edmund didn't see the look he shared with Valera before he did.

"Romel doesn't see it." he said while he was trailing the king out of the camp.

Edmund only glanced back with a quick grin. He didn't slow down. "See what?"

"That you're not that different." the red-head continued.

Edmund was walking along the trail they would take tomorrow. Passing the nomads' camps as he did. He kept walking only because he had no real answer for Arthur's statement.

"Where are we going?"

Edmund huffed. "Are you assigned to protect me?" He turned around, facing the Irin.

Arthur just smiled. "It seems the _last_ thing you need is another protector."

Edmund frowned and came closer. "My brother wouldn't have come to you so that leaves Romel." He was deliberately disregarding Arthur's denial.

Arthur shrugged. "Or perhaps I just missed you,"

Edmund turned with a huff.

"What? Is that so outrageous?" Something about him suddenly sounded a little confrontational.

Edmund scoffed and kept walking.

"I'm your friend, Edmund. I was before-"

"Because you had no other choice." Edmund whirled on him. "I was a lost, little boy with no memory and you took me in out of pity. I don't blame Romel for not regarding me as he once did." He shrugged, trying to sell the lie.

Arthur didn't buy it. "He told us what you talked about." Edmund resumed walking and Arthur followed. "The others didn't understand before. Not like I did."

"Understand what?" Edmund asked in resignation.

"The choice we made by coming for you."

"You chose to save me. That was very noble." Edmund's thoughts shot back to his brother's poor behavior over the past few days. "My brother has no right to treat you like he does."

Arthur laughed and made Edmund halt. "That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Edmund turned, exasperation pouring out of every pore. "Then what?" When Arthur didn't immediately answer Edmund pressed on.

"If you keep walking you'll reach the next campsite by evening." he grinned.

"Then so be it." Edmund growled and sped up his pace slightly.

But Arthur persisted. "What I mean to say is that I understood when we announced our allegiance to you."

"Hurrah,"

Arthur huffed. "Why are you so reluctant to talk?"

Edmund stopped and faced the Irin fully. "Maybe I'm done talking." Something grim slid into his eyes that  
>Arthur instantly noticed.<p>

"What happened after we left?" His voice sounded small all of a sudden.

"You left." Edmund repeated.

"What happened with _you_?"

Edmund shrugged. "I got over it." He turned to walk again, this time taking Arthur a bit longer to follow.

"We never meant to leave you."

"Then why did you?" Edmund asked with his back turned.

"You asked us to!" he blurted out.

Edmund's shoulders dropped and the sense of loneliness he had felt for so long he had forgotten life before returned full force. "You didn't have to listen." His eyes sought down. "So why did you?"

Arthur's voice when he next answered was so small that Edmund stopped. "We were scared."

"Of what?" He glanced back, afraid to look too close.

"Of getting our lives back."

At that he _did_ turn.

"I thought you might understand." he offered.

Edmund looked down. "I do." He took a deep breath and met Arthur's eyes. "I understand." In his voice he tried to convey that Arthur wasn't the source of his grief. That out of all the people in his life Arthur should never feel guilty. He turned and resumed walking.

"Do you have a weapon?" he called without making a move to follow.

"Yes." Edmund barked before he set off running. Arthur didn't follow, but spent a few moments until the king was completely out of sight before he returned to the others.

"Did you speak to him?" Valera asked when he returned. She was sharpening one of her knives. Hale was eating and Romel was writing something in a journal of his. Something no doubt terribly profound, not that he ever let anyone read it.

"I did." Arthur sat down.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He said plenty." Arthur grabbed a bowl of the soup Hale had prepared. "Where are the others?"

"Lauviah is visiting Zoren's son. The others are probably around somewhere." she answered with a quick glance. "So you're not gonna tell us what he said?"

Arthur looked up mid-bite. "No." He took the bite.

Beside him Hale huffed through a smirk. "I wouldn't have either." The two friends shared a grin before both went back to eating.

A bit away from them all Romel watched the conversation with guarded eyes. He was weary of letting a king close to his family. "You remind me of your old self when you talk like that," he then said with a smile. The memories of his childhood this lifetime were sweet. Blissful.

"Don't let my charming, good looks fool you, old friend." Arthur said in a voice none of them had heard from him in almost three decades. "You know I sometimes forget why you left me."

Hale and Romel shared a guilt-ridden expression. "We meant to come back." he said sadly. Valera looked as though she felt a bit left out, and yet profoundly at ease. As if she liked it that way.

Arthur looked up and showed an ounce of the wisdom he once possessed. "You did."

"Just a few weeks too late." Romel growled.

Arthur smiled though the two men suddenly seemed glum. "We all die, Romel." The leader looked up. "I made a choice when I sought you three out." Arthur glanced at Hale and wished Lauviah was there to hear it as well. "Raising you three was the best decision I ever made."

"Bless the Prophets that you did." Hale answered and made Arthur's smile widen.

"Bless the Prophets indeed."

"Where _did_ that expression come from?" Romel asked curiously.

Arthur shrugged with a smile. "One never knows where such things come from."

Valera huffed and smirked. She barely glanced up, but Arthur caught her smile regardless. "I wish I could have met you then."

"I'm here now." He looked pointedly at Romel. "And I'm not so different."

"You're more different than you realize." Romel answered and resumed his writing.

Arthur looked at him a moment before he realized it was meant as a compliment and shyly smiled into his soup.

"Old man." Hale said with a smirk. It made all four of them burst into giggles. Their good mood made the hardened warriors appear as love-struck children, and made all who passed laugh.

* * *

><p>It was much later in the day when Edmund finally came back. He met his brother's eyes with a quick shake of his head before he rushed down towards the river to clean up. The camp felt crowded and as he had stealthily done to himself over the years, he suddenly thrived under. Loneliness suited him fine. Too many people had always felt overwhelming, but these days crowds too quickly became suffocating.<p>

The river was deserted when he reached it. It would take a few seconds to notice where he was in fact standing. His breath left him when he suddenly realized. He had half expected to see blood, saturating the ground. He could still hear distant screams, echoing in the air. The roar of an ogre. _This_ was where he had escaped. Where the Telmarines had been slaughtered.

He looked around the area. The tall pines didn't look familiar, but the river did. He knew the others were probably setting up for the night, and that he should help them, but something held him in place. Kneeling in front of the river. Unknown to him Romel was guarding him from the edge of the trees. His brother as well. Peter had stepped up next to the Irin with a quick glance before he turned the attention to his brother. Edmund was bent over with one hand in the water. Peter glanced at Romel again and spoke directly to him for the first time since leaving the Cair. "Why won't the gypsies set up camp by the river?"

"They say demons live here." He answered with his black eyes on Edmund.

Peter turned back to watch his brother again.

"These forests were once ogre hunting grounds. This river was the site of a massacre two years ago."

At this Peter turned to Romel in surprise. _Two years_. It couldn't be coincidence. "What happened?" he whispered.

Romel was still looking at Edmund who was squatting by the river. He didn't move, but simply held his hand under water. "Ask your brother. He knows better than anyone." With that, he turned to join his men. In his wake Arthur had followed Romel to watch over Edmund and remained a few seconds after his commander left.

Peter shared a concerned look with Arthur. "Watch him tonight." The red-head warned before he turned and left as well.

Edmund was kneeling and lettting the cold water rush past his extended fingers. It looked so clean. Not a speck of blood anywhere. It wasn't until he glanced up at the opposite bank, he saw it. It was almost the same color as the rocks that littered the banks and the bottom. Grey and covered in moss. But for two holes that had once been eyes, one would hardly notice it. Edmund froze.

The skull stared at him through the babbling brook. It was a cruel reminder what had happened here. He flinched when the wind rushed through the closely cropped trees and tricked his confused mind like sounding like a growl. If only a whisper of one, but enough to make the hairs in his arms and neck rise. Was something out there? Watching them?

That horrid day returned to him in a display of quick images. Each one, bloody. His breath hitched and he quickly rose, retracting his numb limb from the freezing water. His heart was thudding in his chest so loud he thought someone would hear. His inhales were coming as short snaps. Only with a great control and by closing his eyes, did he manage to calm himself. No one noticed besides Peter. The only one watching.

He turned and met his brother's eyes at the trees' edge. His eyes looked sad. Sadder than Edmund had seen them in years. As if he _knew_. Quickly looking away, Edmund started towards the camp and passed his brother without a word. If only Peter would ignore it. If only no one noticed. Then everything would be fine.

He spent the evening in their own camp, not talking with anyone. Only answering direct questions with one-syllable answers His soldiers quickly realized he didn't wish to be disturbed and kept their distance. At dinner he ate only enough to satisfy his brother's stern expression before he curled under his blanket.

Night came with a symphony of strange sounds. Ones Edmund vaguely remembered from his last trip here. There was a sharp smell of soil in the air. Night fell quickly this deep in the woods, though the light stayed in the sky for much longer. He settled in that night with hardly a word to anyone. The Irins camped with the Narnians. Those who knew Edmund realized enough not to comment. Those who didn't were too scared to ask.

It wasn't until the inky sky filled out with Stars, not until most fires had been left to die down, that Edmund allowed himself to fall asleep. He didn't know his brother was still watching, waiting for something to happen. He didn't know Romel and some of the Irins were waiting as well. Out of sight they still worried about the young king.

Eventually everyone – except Peter and the soldiers, guarding the camp – fell asleep. Edmund tossed in restless slumber to the great worry of his older brother. Peter was on his side, ready to jump up at the slightest sign of pain.

* * *

><p><em>It started with sounds. Screams. Flashes of blood and glittering steel. Soldiers in black armor. Pain. The smell of infection. He felt water rush over his feet. It was so cold. His hands were bound. His heart was pounding. Where there had been no time to feel panic before, there now was. Everyone around him was dead or dying. He saw what he had forgotten from that day.<em>

_Men were tackled by creatures three times their size. They were ripped open with vicious claws. Bit into whilst still alive. Blood and fluids colored the river dark brown. Slightly red along the banks. Soft chunks of indiscernible nature squeezed up between one's toes. One Ogre roared in victory. It reared back on its hind legs and raised both hands into the air. Such massive hands._

_Edmund was breathing quickly. Bound by his fear. He could only watch as the last Telmarines were brutally dismembered. A few were still screaming. Crying. Begging for someone to help them. Anyone. The Ogre noticed Edmund. Half submerged in mucky water, warm from the bodily fluids pumped into it. It approached him. Slowly. Teasingly. It giggled._

_A line of spit was dangling from its jaw. Pink drool. The Telmarine it had been eating was still alive, but could no longer flee. Split from belly to collarbone, but still whimpering. It reached Edmund though he drew back. Crawled, crabbing along the rocky bank. It picked him up like he weighed nothing. Though he squirmed, it held on. Squeezed till his lungs screamed. Its claws dug into his back and punctured his spine, ribs, lungs and intestines. Blood and feces squirted from his puncture wounds._

_The smell was horrific. His diaphragm was pierced. It became impossible to breathe. He began screaming, though he didn't know where the air came from. He screamed again and again why Aslan would let something so horrific happen. He screamed even as he heard a human voice call him to stop. Order others to let go._

_The Ogre dropped him and he landed, not in warm water, but on cold, forest soil._

* * *

><p>With a great inhale his eyes snapped open. A familiar face was staring wide-eyed at him.<p>

Peter had both hands up. Edmund was backed up against a tree, brandishing a sword. Peter knew the kind of damage his brother could bestow to any who tried to grab him. It was why he had yelled at Romel when he tried to rouse the youngest king. Why he wouldn't let anyone near him until he got him to let go of the sword. The Irin and his friends had jumped into the camp at Edmund's first scream. Peter wouldn't be surprised if everyone was up and wondering if someone was injured. For a brief instant he had admired the Irins' concern.

Though the admiration quickly passed when Romel had tried to wake Edmund and let him pull a sword right out of his scabbard. Careless. Ed had pushed off hard and hit his head against a tree.

Now he was blinking his eyes. Looking at the faces around him, sweating. Friends, family and subjects. All of whom seemed more than a little confused, worried and frightened for their king. Peter's stare penetrated the blind panic he could see in his brother's eyes. But speaking softly, Peter somehow reached him. Edmund allowed himself to sag a little. Allowed the dream to catch up to him.

"Just drop the sword, Eddy." His voice was whisper.

Edmund allowed the weapon to fall and Peter quickly kicked it away. Seeing his brother flinch as he did.

"Shh, shh. It's alright, Ed." he whispered as he leaned in. His arms snaked around his shaking sibling. "Everything's alright." His hand began stroking through the black locks. "You're not alone. I'm here. I'm here." His whisper couldn't be heard by any human ears, but the Animals who were watching heard him quite clearly.

"Go back to your business. Give the kings some privacy." Oncai snapped from somewhere behind them.

"It's ok. It's ok."

Edmund was shivering. "P-Pete,"

"It's ok. Let's go." Peter knew his brother wouldn't want to fall apart in front of others. He guided them along as gently as he could. One path led to the river, the other, in the direction they would head tomorrow. He chose the latter, knowing which memories were attacking his brother.

Without a sound the Irins left the camp and took up wide flanking positions around the kings. Guarding them from far enough away that they couldn't eavesdrop.

"It's over, alright?" Peter tried to catch his brother's eyes, but Edmund wouldn't lift his head. It was scaring him. He was hunched in on himself and shivering.

He sat them both down in the darkness. Only Edmund's heavy breathing could be heard. "It w-was my fault."

"Shh, just sit down." He pulled out one of the honey-biscuits he had kept as a roadside snack for tomorrow.

"I'm-m not hungry."

"It's not for the hunger," Peter said in the same, soothing voice. "Eat it. You'll feel better."

Edmund took it, but didn't eat. Peter gently guided his hand to his mouth and watched his brother nibble at a corner.

"The sugar helps with the shock." he said by way of explaining. He had used it time and again in way of helping frantic survivors and grieving widows. Edmund took another nibble. "Tell me what happened."

"I didn't remember bef-" A swallow. "before." He was calming down, but tears were still flooding his eyes.

"Who did you see?"

His breath hitched. "Telmarines." A tear dislodged. "Ogres, ripping into them." He looked up through the darkness and could only just see his brother's eyes in the gleam of the Stars.

"You were _here_ two years ago, weren't you?"

"Y-Yes." he whispered. "It was my fault. My f-fault." he whispered brokenly.

"How can you say that?"

"I wished for it to happen!"

"Shh, shh." Peter grabbed him in a tight hug and began stroking through the thick, black hair. "You couldn't have stopped it."

That broke him. Edmund keeled over and leaned heavily into his brother's warm embrace. His hands grasped frantically at his clothes. He began sobbing. Long sobs that echoed through the cool night. Cries that would have alerted enemies of their presence, had any of them heard. Though, as if by some miracle, no one did. Those who later told the story said that the grace of the Great Lion rested upon the kings that night. No ogres would have heard, had there been any to hear.

"Listen to me, Ed." Peter gently pulled his brother's chin up. "What happened that day, no one could have stopped." Tears rolled unchecked down his brother's eyes. "Aslan _Himself_ couldn't have stopped it."

"Wh-Why would He let it happen, Peter?" He sounded ten years old again.

Peter's expression broke. Such sorrow in the face of the oldest king. "To avenge those they had killed. To ensure that those men would never again hurt another Narnian."

_He sounds so sure_, Edmund thought.

"_We_ are his favorite children, Edmund. Would _you_ have let them get away with their crimes?"

"W-Was it because of m-me?" he sobbed.

Peter again pulled him close and shushed him. He cradled his head against his chest and started rocking them. "No, little brother." his whisper was like Aslan's breath. "Never because of you. . ." His mind wandered to the day he had heard news of his brother's disappearance.

* * *

><p><strong>Two years prior…<strong>

A Frigate Bird arrived to the King's tent that day. A cool wind was ripping at fabrics and whirling up the smoke from fires. Peter was in council with Oreius and a Calormene machinist. The giants had attacked during the night, but the Calormene war machines had beaten them back. Their victory seemed within reach.

Peter allowed himself to dream. _Imagine. Finally defeating them once and for all. So much suffering to be spared_.

The large Bird flew right into his tent without permission with cries from the Fauns on guard outside. It crashed on the table, digging his sharp claws into the fine maps, just as a guard stormed in, prepared to drag the Bird out. Oreius frowned, obviously recognizing the intruder and held up a hand for the guard to stop. "Excuse me! Master Artillius, what entitles you to such frivolity?" he rumbled.

"Forgive me, your Majesty. General. I bring frightful news." The Bird bowed with a slightly clumsy flourish. He had obviously rushed.

"Who sent you, Artillius?" Peter asked, more than a little annoyed by the interruption. He nodded to excuse the guard.

"Your sister, the noble and gentle Queen Susan." Artillius bowed again.

"What news have you for me?" He stepped closer to the table, still more annoyed than worried. He reluctantly looked the Bird in the eye and paled. What he saw made his thoughts spin and his blood freeze. For Susan to send someone who wasn't a courier by trade, a civilian and one of the fastest Birds in Narnia at that, was suddenly more than a little alarming.

"Your brother, the Just King Edmund has disappeared."

Peter's face fell. His heart stopped pounding. A deep cold spread through his chest. "Oreius, leave us." His voice sounded hollow.

The Centaur bowed and quickly pulled the machinist with him. Peter knew their old instructor was more than a little worried already, but he needed to read the message in private first. "Tell me, what message did she give you?"

"On my leg, my liege." He stretched out a long, skinny leg.

Peter carefully untied the roll of parchment. As he read the note, his face paled even more. The words _missing_ and _remains_ flashed wildly across the page. He looked up at the winded Bird. "She sends no instructions?" His blood had begun pumping again and did so with a furious speed.

The Bird bowed a third time. "Only that she fears Telmarines might be involved in his disappearance."

Peter stared openmouthed at the Bird. His shoulders tensed and his chin dipped. "She does _what_?"

The Bird shied back from the boiling rage that suddenly fumed from the king. "I-I. . .My liege?"

"Dismissed!" Peter turned before he saw the Bird scurry off. He began pacing almost instantly. His thoughts swirled around those who had taken his brother.

Oreius entered only seconds later. "What news from the Cair?" He already knew it was bad if the queen sent an urgent message to the high king during a siege.

"You heard it already." Peter couldn't stop pacing. "My brother's missing."

"Where?" Oreius had already begun considering the planning that would go into dividing their forces at present time. He had no doubt that Peter would want to return.

"In the Western Wild. My sister seems to think Telmarines are involved."

"Beasts," the Centaur growled and stomped a leg. "Your orders?"

Peter was about to answer when a scream echoed through the camp. Both were outside in seconds. "To ARMS!" a Faun called. In the distance, near the frontline of defense where the war-machines were placed, a giant was tearing through what soldiers it could find. Biting heads off right and left and trying to smash one of the machines.

The Narnians moved like a single wave and began charging the lone giant. "A berserker attack!" Oreius called to the men around him. All who could took up arms.

In an instant Peter had forgotten about his newly received message until he saw the red-chested Frigate Bird soaring high above them all. His gaze wandered higher and he wondered if, somewhere, Edmund was watching the sky as well.

In the next instant the giant roared and took out three Narnians with one swipe of its club. His thoughts flickered out and pure instinct took over. They needed to secure the colossus before it could take out the remaining machines, as was obviously its task. Peter charged the attacker, completely overhearing the warning from his general. All he felt that instant was blood-red rage.

He would beat them back, find Edmund and kill everyone who got in his way.

* * *

><p><strong>Present…<strong>

Peter watched the quiet Stars above them. "It wasn't you who called for blood," he whispered. He wasn't sure his brother even heard him. His breathing had evened out and his body had gone lax. "It was never _your_ voice that called Aslan for vengeance."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> How was that? Did anyone catch the insinuation from Romel and Arthur's talk? Do anyone remember who raised Romel, Hale and Lauviah in this of their lives? If you don't, let me know. I'm probably gonne try to tie it in again later on in the story. Hope you all enjoyed. :)


	14. Chapter 13: The Porter

**Disclaimer:** I asked, but alas...

**Author's Note:** Working out a few kinks in the story, but it's steadily progressing along. Might be a slight delay down the road, but I say that somewhere in the middle of all my stories and it usually never happens. The passage in italics is homemade. Enjoy. And as per usual (as it has become through no fault of mine) there might be places where this site refuses to divide my story. If it feels like the storyline suddenly skips that's probably the cause. It continues to get on my nerves so I continue to bother you by mentioning it :) If you could only see my sadistic smile...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: "The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad"<strong>

"_Proud and noble she stood. Her hair like night and eyes like lakes. Gentle in presence, but far from weak. Her smile, when lit, could shine the light for returning soldiers. Her voice when sung could lull even the most panicked of horses to sleep. In her life she was rarely herself. Always proud and strong. In her reign she was never cruel. Always calm and considerate. And though they all loved her so very well, most felt they could never truly give back what she gave them. And though she smiled better than anyone, she could never dispel the sadness that clung to her like a scent. An indefinable sorrow that would never be noticed, yet never be ignored. And even though many tried, many came, and many courted, none of them could ever chase away that sadness. Only on certain days would she journey her kingdom. She would come to a spot in the great, deep forest, and without a word she would climb off her horse and kneel in the grass. Every eye would watch her curiously, and love her all the more. Only then would the sadness leave, and her smiles outshine the sun._

_Commanding and brilliant she fought. Like a spear of fire she battled. Only once was she not in front, and then only because she was bound by hand and foot. She was the red queen, the queen of diamonds. Sharp and clear in every way. Her laugh could ignite even the darkest of nights. Though there was a seriousness about her. Something somber that not many saw. On certain nights she would sit in her window and look out over her kingdom. And sadness would crawl into her eyes. She would never cry because the love for Narnia was stronger than any darkness. But she would stare. She would let her eyes drift until they reached the stars and beyond. One those nights she would wonder what it would be like to fly, and a Gryphon would pick her up. As if called the mighty Bird would land on her perch and flap its wings. The name of the mighty Bird shall henceforth never be known for he was the most trusted friend of the queen. But on those nights, all through the kingdom, a great bell of laughter could be heard. And none doubted who it was."_

* * *

><p>Susan picked up a letter from the Tisroc.<p>

"_Most honorable High King._

_We, Shehyzan Tarkaan, Twenty-Fifth of that Name, Tisroc of the Magnificent Land of Calormen, Servant of Tash, Protector of Peoples, Humble Servant, write to thee, O High King of Narnia. In Our years We have battled many enemies, but none as surprisingly formidable as yours. The strength of your army, despite its modest size, has greatly impressed Us. It is in this matter We write you. A vile man threatens Our fair land from the south. He marches his army north in the hopes of killing Us, the most noble Tisroc. Should We fall, the shining city of Tashbaan will fall as well. Therefore We ask thee to aid Us, despite your disadvantage, now in this time of need. We ask only for protection against his demonic hordes and hope it will not overwhelm you._

_Blessings on your little land._

_Shehyzan Tarkaan, Shepherd of the Land, Educator of Wise, Savior of Weak, The Tisroc."_

"He does love his titles, doesn't he?" Susan asked the empty room and sighed. She glanced out her window and put the letter down. It was amazing how the pompous blabbermouth managed to sound so flattering and mocking all at once. "Dala?" She rubbed her forehead.

A Goat skipped into her room. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Will you send for a Raven?"

"Certainly, my Queen." She skipped back outside with a _klip-klop_ of hooves on marble.

Susan sighed again and pushed the letter a bit away. Then, along with a dull headache, the consequences of this hit her. The consequences of this very _real_ situation. The Tisroc was declaring war against the rebels while Edmund and Peter were exploring the Western Wild. But did the Tisroc know they were gone despite the naïve tone of his letter? She growled and rubbed her temples.

None of that really mattered. Her brothers had their own problems to deal with. They had their own people to protect. The duty of protecting Narnia fell on the queens' shoulders this time. The first thing she would do was write Lucy. The Valiant Queen had gone south to Anvard the day before to help in the search for the missing Calormene army.

She would need to hear about this. The Tisroc didn't honestly believe they were stupid enough to send their entire army south while _his_ soldiers headed north? She scoffed and looked out the window. If he thought their army was in any way inferior he was in for a surprise.

**PpPpPpPpPp**

"_Dear Sister,_

_The situation has worsened. I have received word from the Tisroc. The rebels are marching north towards Tashbaan. He asks for our help in the protection of the capitol. Despite his condescending tone I fear he might be in the right. If Tashbaan falls, nothing stands between us and war. And should, Aslan forbid, Anvard fall, Narnia will be theirs for the taking._

_Though the Tisroc pretends to be very open, I fear there is something he is withholding. Something deeper than this resistance in Calormen. Do you have any spies that far south?_

_Lovingly, Susan._

_PS: The twins wish they could join you in the search for the missing soldiers."_

Lucy looked up at King Lune with a pensive expression. "Sounds like we might have a war on two fronts."

King Lune nodded in agreement. "I hope your sister can keep my sons in Cair Paravel till this situation passes."

Lucy nodded. She was slightly against Lune using the word "situation" in a time of trouble. "I'm sure the _situation_ won't come to that." She offered him a confident smile. Her calm demeanor didn't evaporate until she reached her private quarters. A lovely Willow Dryad was accompanying her and the soldiers on the trip. "Spindla, have you seen my boots?" Lucy had left her riding boots at the foot of her bed the night before. Now they were missing.

"I polished them while you met with King Lune. I hope that's alright, your Majesty?" She looked worried about the frown Lucy was sporting.

The Valiant Queen tried to smooth her worry over with a smile. "Yes, that's very kind of you. Thank you."

The Willow Dryad smiled, curtsied and left the room. As soon as the door closed Lucy sank into the bed. She stared into the patterned curtain that hung over post-bed. It was green with autumn colored leaves on it. Just as she liked it. With a deep breath she sat up and glared at her desk. Something from Susan's letter kept pestering her. _"Do you have any spies that far south?"_ She had one she hadn't spoken to since the last time she went to Tashbaan. With decisive steps she sat down behind the desk and pulled out quill and paper. On a piece of parchment she wrote:

"_Dear Lark._

_Because Calormene scriptures so remind me of old promises. Do you remember this one? _

_Hold fast thy secret and to none unfold, _

_Lost is a secret when that secret's told. _

_And fail thy breast thy secret to conceal, _

_How canst thou hope another's breast shall hold?_

_Yours always, Azrak."_

She felt confident that the woman would not only remember the poem, but also the meaning it had to both of them. She sealed it and called for a Pigeon. One named Ash arrived moments later. It was perched delicately on Spindla's hand when they entered Lucy's room.

"My Queen?"

Lucy stood up and nodded politely to Ash, who in turn stretched out his little leg. "This is to be delivered to the largest house of ill repute on the north bank of the Tashbaan River. The house has a blue door," Ash was watching her attentively. "You are to place it in the hands of a woman named Lark. None other. Do you understand?"

Ash nodded. "Yes, your Grace." He bowed in his fashion and fluttered his wings when she tied the letter to his leg.

She smiled thinly and nodded to Spindla to leave. "Make haste." she said in farewell and placed a kiss on his forehead. The little pigeon nodded dutifully before he was carried out of sight. With another deep sigh she went back to bed and fell onto the soft covers. Another search was scheduled after dinner. She planned to participate along with her soldiers.

Over the years Lucy had been given her own recruits, handpicked by her brothers. Creatures and Animals, specially trained to protect her. Trained to be the best in their field. She smiled in the knowledge that she knew each and every soldier in her little detail. That they were more like friends than subjects. She wondered if this was how Peter and Edmund had felt in the early years of their reign. That this was how brothers and sisters in arms felt about each other. It was hard not to get attached to the people who protected you and whom you protected in return.

It only took a few minutes until she fell into a deep sleep, the foliage of her bed imprinting her dreams. Dreams of deep forests full of strange and wonderful creatures.

Not until sunset did Spindla return and wake her for dinner. Afterwards, when the sun had set completely, the Archenland and Narnian companies set out in their search for the disturbers of peace.

After searching the mountains half the night, Lucy had crashed into bed and slept soundly. She woke at dawn with a great deal of reluctance. If there was any a day she wished to sleep in this was it. To make staying in bed even more appealing, it was raining. Grey clouds billowed over the low-hanging sky. Grassy fields soaked up every drop of icy water. A chill ripped through the old castle. She shuddered, but rose when Spindla entered with her morning tea.

It was one of the reasons she had asked the Dryad along. She had an uncanny ability to know exactly what Lucy felt at any given time. To know when her queen was less than perfect and how to remedy that. "Thank you," she whispered and accepted the hot beverage.

After drinking she dressed in the comfortable clothes she could never wear in the Cair. Breeches and a warm jacket over a leather vest. The king never mentioned it, and only a few soldiers or servants stared when she passed them in the halls. That morning they were being joined by fifteen new arrivals from Castle Aerigal in the western part of Archenland. With greetings from Lord Belean. All the men were young and handsome, and smiled at the serving ladies or offered cheeky remarks.

When Lucy joined them she got a few whistles and chuckles. It wasn't until she sat at the table, on the king's right hand, that they all silenced. Most of them realized who she was with a sense of horror, and the rest looked on in confusion. Silence governed the grand hall until the king rose to introduce his new guests to the visiting queen and her own soldiers. Only then did all of them look terrified. Lucy smiled and almost laughed at the terror that widened their eyes. But as any regal should, she reined in her exuberant emotions and offered them a composed nod. But her smirk, the one she got from Edmund, persistently remained all through the morning meal.

In the court yard, when she was readying Tusk, many of them stared. She heard about Lord Belean's court. Stories that most of them had never even been to Anvard since the journey was rather troublesome. The journey to Narnia even more so. She liked the effect her very presence had on the men, and even basked in the attention a little. She would be leading her own company when they separated with King Lune's, and most of the lord's men would follow her. She was looking forward to showing them what her soldiers could do.

They rode out in one group with the king and Lucy at the front. Her long, woolly cloak had been tied snugly around her waist to prevent air from coming in. Her long sleeves were accentuated as well as the thick train that flapped in Tusk's wake. When they had first ridden out into the grey morning, she was still feeling a little reluctant, but soon she realized that the chill was quite refreshing. It ripped her hair back and made her fingers like ice.

When they stopped to break, right before the path rose into the mountains and split, she saw Tusk was already steaming. She ran a soothing hand over his neck before she dismounted and joined the men under a low rift in the rock wall. Fires were already roaring and food was sizzling. Conversation was low, but that was to be expected. Those who weren't talking about the search were undoubtedly talking about _her_.

She joined her second in command. A Satyr captain named Astos. He had a loud and commanding presence. He was a master with his curved sword and had a story for every occasion. He had been handpicked by Edmund to be in Lucy's detail. Around them were sitting a couple of Fauns, a Great Cat, and a few Dogs. All of them seemed to care very little about the poor weather. Trillian, a Centaur, was too tall to fit under the overhang and had elected to keep watch. Lucy brought him a bowl of stew which drew the eyes of the Aerigal soldiers. She wondered if she looked utterly ridiculous compared to the women they usually surrounded themselves with. It made her posture sink in on itself slightly. Perhaps it wasn't admiration over the Valiant Queen, but perhaps they simply thought she looked strange. It soured her mood when she returned to Astos.

He noticed her gloomy disposition and told them all one of very few funny stories from the White Days. It raised the mood and pushed the cold back for a brief moment. Lucy's bubbling laugh echoed through the cave.

But the merriment did not last long. It was only a few minutes before people began repacking their supplies and mounting their horses. Tusk greeted her with a whicker when she went to mount. Her smile once again shone to its full potential. The wonders of a warm meal never ceased to amaze her. They set out in two groups. King Lune took his men up the mountain by an eastbound pass, whilst Lucy took hers through a path in a ravine. They rode out slowly, very careful not to injure their horses. Trillian took point along with the Siberian Tigress Sif Whitemorelean. She was a refugee from the northern mountains where she and her family had hid during the war. Together they sniffed out the safest trails, and tried to pick up the scent of the Calormene soldiers.

But as day turned to evening and the grey light became darker, they reported that there were no signs. Lucy was beginning to feel disheartened. A group of five hundred horses should leave trails. But then why was there no trace of them? When the fog that ruled these mountains lifted, and Lucy spotted the first star, she decided it was time to head back. With a loud whistle she signaled to the troop to come about. She received a grateful smile from one of the Aerigal soldiers when she passed him, much to her surprise. But she smiled back nonetheless.

**PpPpPpPpP**

The messenger arrived very late the next day. A man on horseback with a sealed letter from the captain. The captain was an imbecile, but he was devout. Jazir could easily control devout servants. They never questioned, they never doubted, even when commanders asked them to ride north. He smirked when he opened the letter. Surely the ass had gotten himself lost somewhere. As he read it a mocking chuckle escaped him. The captain was asking for new orders since his men had been spotted by the fat king. Jazir guessed this 'fat king' to be King Lune. As he continued reading, he gave pause at a certain passage.

"_And the queen of the north rides with men and creatures of her own. They will surely have some otherworldly way of searching us out. I only hope Tash will protect me from her horridness should she find me."_

"The queen of the north…" he repeated softly. From the description it sounded very much like the youngest, the Valiant queen. If they could somehow capture her Narnia would be theirs for the taking. They would have an army of beasts at their command and the Tisroc would finally learn the consequences of killing another man's son.

He replied back that the captain should head further north. Send most of his men into Narnia and hide there. A few of them, only his best, should go after the queen and capture her. In case it failed he should honor Tash by submitting himself to His judgment. He wondered if the moron would understand the meaning if no one explained it to him. It didn't matter. The second in command was just as capable, and if the captain failed he would never escape the wrath of the queen's subjects.

He knew a great many things about the world in which he lived. He had realized early on that it was necessary in order to purge the stupidity that so many to the north suffered under. He had even sent his son and several subjects to the north as well. All to learn about the four rulers. The one thing that remained persistent in every account, whether given to him by his own spies or gossip from the palace kitchens, was the love their subjects felt for the two queens and kings. A love that could bear with it a terrible wrath should anyone dare to harm either of them.

It was how he knew his nephew had signed his own death sentence the day he allowed the Just King to be tortured in his palace. The day would surely come where the demons of the north would fall upon the fair Tisroc and slid his throat.

It was a day he anxiously anticipated.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>To be continued tomorrow...


	15. Chapter 14: The Tower

**Disclaimer:** With the exception of Oreius and the brothers, who belong to Lewis, everyone recognizable in this chapter belong to Elektrum. The rest, the ones you won't recognize, belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Not much to say really. Italics are written by yours truly. And...wellcome to the kickoff. From now on things will speed up. Hope you're all still with me and not lost in the seemingly un-ending setup. Oh yes and the site is being bitchy. :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 14: "The Tower"<strong>

"_And in His magnificent silence He stands. The harbinger of dark times ahead. Wherever the Tower appears, earth will crumble beneath feet. Screams will sour the air and horror will consume all who breathe."_

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><p>The going was slow after they left the site of the slaughter. They only spent four more nights with the nomads before they went in separate directions. They were heading south-west while Romel's crew and the Narnians continued west. "How far till we reach our destination?" Oncai asked. Her smooth gait was at odds with Romel's slightly lumbering stride. Edmund arched a brow at the slight undertone of admiration in her voice.<p>

"Ten days if everything goes as planned." he answered, seemingly oblivious.

The company of twenty nine soldiers, scouts. hunters and kings was moving along the forest slowly. No one felt any particular need to rush. Edmund was relentlessly stuck in his own mind. The nightmare had dredged up memories he had blissfully forgotten. They were now replaying before his mind's eye without reprieve. Peter kept a constant safety distance of two inches from his brother. It was getting to the point where the Just was getting royally peeved.

"The next time you bump me I _will_ push back." he growled with his back to his brother.

Peter didn't offer any apology or explanation, simply waiting for his brother's ire to reach boiling point. Maybe then they could talk it out and vent some of their feelings? It was getting to the point where he didn't care if their subjects saw. Edmund was obviously suffering and anyone with half a mind could see that. The next time he bumped his brother it was almost on purpose.

"That's it!" Edmund hissed and twirled lightning fast. He lunged at Peter and toppled them both onto the ground. Neither of them drew their swords, but this still wasn't one of the good natured fights they sometimes got into. Many of the Narnians weren't sure if they should interfere or leave.

The Irins watched anxiously, while Romel sported a dry smile, as the brothers duked it out. It was no light matter either. They were both swinging punches that were backed by powerful muscles. Enough force to do some serious damage had either of them really wanted to. They presently had each other in a series of headlocks. Every second the other flipped around and gained the upper hand. It ended when Edmund landed a swing across his brother's cheek that sent him stumbling back.

Both brothers were panting and glaring at each other. They were covered in dirt and leaves and sitting, legs out, on the ground. No one spoke. The tension stayed suffocating for all but the two sovereigns until Edmund wildly came to his feet. He whirled up a couple of leaves as he did. His dark eyes zeroed in on his brother, asking a silent question.

The older brother simply stared back. If even the slightest bit of trust existed between them Edmund wouldn't need him to voice his thoughts. It seemed such a sliver existed when the question left Edmund's eyes and was replaced with embarrassment. Peter could have smiled had it not been for his brother's suffering expression before he turned and left.

The Magnificent was helped to his feet by none other than Romel. It seemed the pack leader didn't have to ask to know what the fight was about either. It was strange how Peter felt a sudden connection to the stranger. He didn't speak a word as he left the clearing and disregarded the connection as his own imagination. He also didn't give any orders for Oncai, leaving her to figure out what to do. He released a sigh when he heard her call for a halt.

Camp was set and people began bustling around, preparing food or setting up tents. Evening came eventually, but the sky remained an obstinate light blue as it had the other nights. Edmund and Peter didn't argue again, but as night became deeper they sat next to each other in silence. The Irins were already getting along with the Narnians, making Peter's dislike for them that much harder to maintain. Every time one of his subjects laughed at something they said he was hard pressed not to smile. He glanced over at his brother and knew in an instant what he was thinking. Edmund was afraid to sleep.

The younger king was staring into the fire as it flickered and crackled, licking the black sky. Nocturnal birds were calling for each other and the pines stood guard around the camp. Everything seemed calm. Then the red-headed Irin, Arthur, came over and sat down next to Ed. Both brothers looked up when he sat. He offered a light smile to them both, but neither smiled back. "Would you like to know what I was when I was still Narnian?" he asked rather suddenly. The light from the fire, reflecting off his teeth.

Both brothers looked confused. "Weren't you human?" Peter asked. Edmund remained silent.

Arthur smiled. "No." He looked at his kings. "I was a werewolf." he said quietly.

Peter's expression slipped and something slightly predatory slipped into his posture. His hand inched towards his hip. Edmund just looked stunned. "Really?" His wide eyes made him look like a child again.

Arthur's smile grew in the light of Edmund's wonderment. "Yes. Would you like to know what Archer was?"

"Shut up!" The Galmanian bellowed and made his friends laugh.

"He was a Boar." Romel said through a smile. The firelight made shadows dance across his face. Such a strange gathering of men, Peter suddenly thought. All of them half cloaked in the darkness of the night and yet iluminated by the light from the fire.

"And what were you?" Edmund asked Romel. Every Narnian around the two fires was silent in curiosity. It was easy to forget that the Narnians all knew about the last guardians. They had all heard the stories and most viewed them as heroes.

Something soft slipped over Romel's eyes and his gaze went with his mind to someplace far away. "I was a Faun." His voice softened and his eyes became even more distant. Edmund could almost imagine the sad, but joyful expression that all Fauns mastered. He smiled.

"I was an Ostrich," Lauviah announced with a smile. All eyes turned to her.

"I was a Wolf." Valera said with her eyes on the fire. All eyes shifted from one to the other.

"I as well," Nimwey said quietly. She was sitting just out of the range of the light. Seeing all without being seen.

"I was a Centaur like Stell," Hale said quietly.

Peter suddenly looked at him differently. Pride slipped over his face as it had Hale's. He had held a sense of admiration of Centaurs ever since he first met Oreius. His eyes drifted to Thale who was still silent.

Hamied turned to Edmund with a smile. "I was a Faun like Romel. And Thale, here," He pointed to the newcomer. "-was a Cheetah." The young man raised the knife he was sharpening with a smile.

Edmund shared a smirk with the dark-skinned Calormene first and Thale next. Then in an instant something sad slipped over his face. They had all been different people. Done things. "I was a traitor." His voice sounded subdued and his eyes sought to the ground.

Peter looked at him worriedly before a confession of his own came to mind. "I was a child." His soft voice drew his brother's eyes to his face. The two brothers shared a long look and eventually a light smile. Everyone stared at them as if in a trance.

"Things change," Oncai said with a mirthful smile of her own.

A Faun, a friend of Edmund's named Bacchus, chuckled. "Even General Oreius was a foal once." he then announced. His smile never left. It even grew a little when he made both kings chuckle.

Though Peter's was more a scoff. "I find that hard to believe." He shared a smile with his brother.

"I always assumed he was born in his armor." Edmund said lightly to the joy of the Narnians.

"Holding a spear." Peter finished and made more of them chuckle.

"I'd like to get to know him." Romel said. He was smiling as well. Some would almost call it a hopeful one.

Peter looked up and met the leader's eye. He offered a quick nod and Romel nodded back. And as easy as that it seemed the Irins had officially been welcomed back to their old home. The fire crackled and offered a pleasant reprive from the silence.

Though he never told him, Romel's view of the Magnificent King changed that evening. He came to see him less as a ruler and more as a friend. As most of Peter's subjects did. As most of their subjects saw all their sovereigns.

The night deepened even more and eventually everyone went to sleep. The guards patrolled the quiet forest and whispered excitedly about the Irins. They all spoke of them in hushed voices, filled with childish glee.

Like any one of _us_ would have spoken about a new beginning.

**PpPpPpPpP**

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><p>The first tremor came sometime in the morning. Only about half an hour after they had moved on from the camp. The Wolves and Fauns were the only ones to notice though none of them really knew what it was at first. They became anxious and agitated for no apparent reason. Beth Ravenwolf started snapping at everyone. Even the Fauns seemed more worried than usual. Edmund should have known then that something was wrong.<p>

The second tremor was much more violent and came sometime after noon. It started with a sense of unease as everyone's diaphragms shook. It became more pronounced and for a second Edmund thought it was _him_ shaking. Then the earth started roaring. Rocks began sliding. The next they knew the giant elms were swaying.

"EARTHQUAKE!"

Edmund didn't see who yelled and the next moment it didn't matter. The ground gave beneath his feet. "Pete-" He fell. He was aware of falling. Rocks soared by him like feathers. He hit the ground with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs. He couldn't draw breath. The rocks splintered around him like bombs. Pieces of flint and granite exploded everywhere. Hit his face. Something stung his side.

"_EDMUND_!" Somewhere above him, his brother yelled. Someone screamed in agony. More howls and cries of pain mixed with thumps and wet, crunching sounds.

"Stay on the path!" he heard someone else scream. Several bodies crashed around him. "Edmund!" It was Romel.

"Your majesties!" someone far away screamed.

And as if someone had flipped a switch, it stopped. The earth stopped shaking and rocks and gravel settled. The cries and screams continued. Someone was still calling for him. For his brother too. He gingerly turned his head and saw a piece of bone jutting out of his lower, right arm. He had landed on a rock, dislocated his shoulder and broken his arm in one, gracious swoop. But the worst pain, the one that was making him panic, was the fact that he couldn't breathe in. He kept trying and trying, but it was like someone had sat on his back. His lungs were punctured, he knew. He had felt it before. His ribcage had probably been cracked as well. He was lucky it hadn't caved in entirely.

"Ed. . ." A muffled voice. His brother's. Edmund turned his head and saw him just a few feet from him. He was on his stomach with a long gash to the forehead. He had fallen partially on top of Titus. The Faun was dead. Edmund tried to convey that he couldn't breathe and realized he could hardly move either.

"P-p-" Wheeze. He closed his eyes to get away from the pain. The gore around him. Hooves on rock. Feet, climbing down. More people crying. The screams came from above. Someone called for Nimwey.

"King Edmund! Answer me." Rough hands on his face. Bacchus' voice.

He opened his eyes and tried again to breathe in. This time it worked, but he immediately coughed and spat out blood.

"No..." The Faun sounded distraught.

He pointed vaguely to his chest. The vial from Lucy. The cordial.

"I know. I know it hurts." It was Vala. The Mountain Lion looked filthy. Dirt everywhere and a bleeding gash on her neck. Her natural grace had no doubt spared her several injuries.

A Wolf was by his side the next instant. "No, he has a vial with Queen Lucy's cordial around his neck. Give it to him!" Keefang barked. Something was pulled out from under his armor. A hot drop landed on his tongue and rolled down his pallet. There were only a few drops in that vial. Not nearly enough for everyone.

"Pe-" Wheeze. "Peter."

"Check the high king!" Keefang ordered. Someone left his side. Another came into view. A human.

"King Edmund?" A woman's voice. Cold. Calm.

His breathing felt better. He felt warm. All telltale signs that the cordial was working.

"Edmund, I need to set your arm for the potion to work properly," Edmund would have nodded if he could. She seemed to understand regardless. "Alright." The second her hands grabbed the broken arm, pain shot through him. Not just at the break, but through his entire body. It happened rather quickly, but felt like minutes.

"Easy," Keefang growled. Not at him, but at Nimwey.

The woman pulled the arm taut and repositioned the splintered bone. "This is a compound fracture. Will the cordial work?"

"It has in the past," a gentler voice said. "Your majesty?"

"My broth-" A cough. "-brother?" Edmund could only whisper still.

"The high king?" the soft voice called someone else. They answered something Edmund couldn't hear. "He will live." A warm hand on his forehead. "Rest, Sire."

He followed the advice with a sigh of relief when the pain in his chest vanished. "_Nex! Get over here_!" The hand left and Edmund reluctantly opened his eyes. He knew what he would see. People were still screaming. Someone was crying. He had never known his soldiers to cry that hard about fallen friends. It sounded like a woman. A final jolt of pain woke him completely. He sat up and looked around.

Animals, Humans and Creatures were running around. Only a few were at the bottom of the ravine. Most were still on the partially collapsed path, trying to find a safe way down, but the loose gravel kept sliding, endangering those below. Edmund knew his brother had been given a small vial from Lucy as well. But it wasn't his brother he sought out. Someone very familiar was screaming at the top of her lungs. He took a tentative breath and sighed when there was no pain. He flexed his arm and noticed that it was painless as well. Someone had popped his shoulder back into place.

"_Lauviah, calm down_!"

He flinched and looked in the direction of the Irin. She was still on the path above him, being held back by Romel. Nimwey was sitting in front of a crushed body, calmly looking it over. Above them Lauviah was struggling and screaming at the top of her lungs. With a massive effort, Edmund rose to his feet. His head swam. Nex and Vala were sitting around Nimwey as she leaned over someone on the ground.

"No-Aahrr!" Lauviah again screamed. She and the others could only just see over the edge of the collapsed path.

Edmund blinked when he saw the face of the man on the ground. "Hamied?" His whisper barely broke through his own haze. He doubted anyone else heard. "No," He stumbled over and landed with a jarring halt next to Nex. His breath was again coming in long, desperate breaths. Tears were gathering in his eyes. "Wh-What happened?" He looked at the Faun, pleading.

"Rocks crushed his skull. He was dead on impact, I'm afraid." he said with sorrow in his face. Keefang shot past them without looking twice.

Edmund couldn't fully comprehend anything until his brother suddenly yelled. "Edmund!" He stood up and headed in the direction of the voice. He saw his brother behind a large monolith, holding a Tiger while Keefang worked to dig her out.

"Hamied is dead," Edmund whispered. He thumped down next to his brother.

"What happened?"

Edmund looked around the chaos. ". . .He f-fell." he whispered. There was blood pooling under the Tigress' body.

"Edmund, what happened!"

"His head was bashed against a rock." A deep breath. He locked everything away and focused on what was right in front of him. "What do you need help with?" But his voice still sounded shaky to his ears.

Peter spent another second in pause before instinct took over. "I need you to hold her head."

Edmund reached out and was handed the fragile package. The Tigress' name was Laila, he vaguely remembered. He reached out, but was corrected by his brother.

"No, like this,"

He adjusted his grip and sat down when Peter rose to his feet. "Alright, we need to move this rock. Get the others to help us!" he shouted at Keefang.

The Wolf shot out of sight and returned with Nex, Vala and Bacchus. "Where's Beth?" Bacchus asked her brother.

The Wolf let out a whimper before he answered and resumed his vigorous digging. "Dead."

Edmund felt tears dripping from his eyes. He was shaking. He looked to the top of the unsteady hill and caught Arthur staring at him. It was the first time he had ever seen the red-head in such shock and it only made his own more real. His eyes were wide with fear and his skin pale. They couldn't get down. No one could get up.

There would be no help until they found their own way out of the ravine. Together the six Narnians and Nimwey helped lift the rock off Laila. Peter pulled out his vial, but there was barely one drop left. He was far from certain it would work, but both kings knew they had to try.

Laila's chest had caved in and she wasn't breathing. Her head looked crushed as well. Peter gingerly tipped the vial into her mouth and waited. Barely a drop escaped from the bottle. Blood covered her gums. Everyone watched nervously for something to happen. Anything. It took almost a minute before they realized she was dead and wouldn't wake up. Edmund guessed the heart had stopped when her chest collapsed. He let out a moan and let her head fall. He bent over and took a deep breath before he straightened and watched Nimwey walk away.

He worried that she was still in shock because not a single emotion showed on her face. A slight tremor in her hands, but that was it. He saw her walk away from the collapse and hop onto a rock. She turned and faced the path.

Edmund hopped to his feet and wiped his face. He wondered how many more were buried in the rubble. When he reached the rock, Nimwey helped him up. Together they saw Romel watching them. "How many dead?" he called down.

"We count th-three." Edmund's voice broke a little, but he knew he couldn't afford to break down. "Titus, Laila and Hamied." Another tear dripped from his face, but he quickly whisked it away. From Romel's expression he knew the pack leader already knew. He also realized that Romel was more worried about Nimwey than himself. It made sense, he assumed. Nimwey had known him for over eight hundred years. But he still marveled that she wasn't more shocked.

"Ed!" his brother called. His voice, sending a shiver of panic through the younger king.

Edmund hopped off the rock and ran towards the voice. His brother was kneeled in front of a group of Animals. One of which he recognized instantly. Oncai was trapped under a pile of stones. Dead. With her was a Dog, a Satyr and a Ram named Vestros. All dead. The Dog had only recently joined the Royal Guard. This had been his first, real trip. The Satyr and Vestros had both been veterans. And Oncai. He fell to his knees next to his brother before he turned back and caught Nimwey's eyes. "Four more." he called.

She nodded and signaled seven to Romel.

He stayed on his knees next to Peter until the oldest king reached up and pulled his brother close to him. He was shaking. Crying, Edmund knew. Edmund himself felt like someone had pulled wool down over his face. Bacchus was sitting next to them with Nex's hand in his. Vala was weeping quietly and Keefang's head hung low. With slow movements, Peter got to a stand and pulled his brother up with him. His eyes bright with tears. "We need to talk to Romel and find out how many survived. We- We need to bury them."

Edmund nodded. His eyes were swimming, but only precious few drops actually fell. He sniffed and wiped his nose. "We need a plan."

Peter nodded and turned towards Nimwey. She was still standing on her rock, looking over the terrain. When the kings arrived she stepped down and allowed them to jump up. Peter was first and helped his brother up. They looked up and saw Romel standing in front of Archer, Arthur and Valera. Next to them was the new captain Barrow. He was a Wolf that had deserted Jadis' war in favor of the Narnian one. Behind _him_ stood about ten or so Narnians.

Edmund's heart fell. He realized more were buried under the rubble they hadn't found. His brother's voice rang out with the same strength it usually carried. Only because they had seen death before could they remain strong. The only things that gave away Peter's pain were the tears in his eyes and the shiver in his voice. As he spoke Edmund's eyes sought to the right where he saw the ground dip vertically into a second slope that ended so far down the sun could barely reach it. Rocks had slid down the side and he had no doubt that some of his friends had fallen in. He caught Nex's eye and directed him to the edge.

The Fauns, the Mountain Lion and the Wolf all made their way over to look for more survivors. He heard his brother ask if there were any dead up there. Barrow sadly confirmed that there was. Two Narnians and one Irin. "Who?" Edmund called.

"H-Hale," Romel called back. The silence stretched between the two dark-eyed men while Edmund's brother kept talking to Barrow. In the shared moment between them Edmund could feel his heart pounding. His breathing was coming too fast for his liking. It felt as if something was trying to squeeze him.

And despite it all Peter remained strong. Breathing deeply and looking on the verge of collapse, but his brother remained strong. A plan was made to bury the dead and tend to the injured before heading on. They would all camp for one night before attempting to reunite the next day. Each group made their way away from the area of the collapse. Barrow led his group further down the path and the kings led theirs deeper into the forest.

**PpPpPpPpPpPpP**

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><p>The traditions surrounding the deaths of loved ones varied throughout Narnia. The Dwarves were buried, facing the earth. The Fauns and Satyrs journeyed from near and far to mourn their dead with hymns. The Dryads danced in the honor of their dead and Centaurs had a tradition to gather in silent vigil. A tradition they shared with the Archenland humans. One the sovereigns had adopted. Their dead were buried and a vigil was held for those left behind.<p>

That night, deep in the Western Wild, torches were lit. Eleven total for those who had died and for those who were still missing. One for each of the Narnians. Even those with no bodies to bury. They only laid seven to rest that night and the only one who wasn't buried was Hamied. He was burned. Together they built a massive pyre and placed the wrapped corpse on top of it. And as the flames licked the deceased friend Nimwey began speaking. At first she spoke in a low voice, but then a little louder until certain words reached the ears of the other six.

She was reciting a prayer. An old one from days of King Frank and Queen Helen. A prayer in ancient Narnian. The words flowed from her tongue as easy as breath. The only two who understood completely were Peter and Edmund, having studied the language. Edmund watched in surprise as she finished and turned without another word. She met his eyes as she passed him and a shiver raced up his spine. He spoke nothing of it though Peter looked at him strangely until they all went to bed.

The Irin kept watch that night.

**PpPpPpPpPpPpP**

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><p>Under the cover of night sat a Falcon. Her head was bowed in reverence as she took in the yellow fires. From her perch on one of the highest branches on one of the highest pines she could see both camps. Arroll's people were in mourning and it saddened her to the farthest recesses of her soul to know there was nothing she could do to alleviate their sadness. All she had were her orders.<p>

With a shrill call she took off from the heavy branch and flew into the night.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So... This perhaps came as a shock to some of you? Losing one of the main side-characters (if I can even say that). Probably should have posted a warning. If any of you desire warnings in the future (should something violent such as this, or something similar happen) please let me know in a review.


	16. Chapter 15: The Hanged Man

**Disclaimer:** I've borrowed from Elektrum and Lewis. I own nothing, but the Irins and the nomads, oh and Nex, Bacchus and Vala.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for not updating yesterday as per usual. My mother was visiting and so absorbed all creative impulses I may have had otherwise. The passage in italics was written by myself, though the subject is someone I think most of us are familiar with. Oh yes and the site is still acting up about the division lines. Anyone else having the same problem?

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><p><strong>Chapter 15: "The Hanged Man"<strong>

"_On stems and sticks they stick out of the ground. Like buds on a rose they dot the empty field. Their stalks are slightly bent though death suits them. Where screams sounded before there is only silence now. A field of beauty the likes of which he has never seen. He planted them there because he knew they would be lovely. Their fluids fertilize the earth, and welcomes guests. A bird chirps from a branch. It beholds the garden with joy. Its hungry beak pecks at the roses._

_When others gaze upon the field they shudder, and he wonders. All he sees now is flowers and a clear, blue sky. _

_But the stems and sticks are poles. The roses are corpses. The bird is a vulture and the field is a burnt wasteland. Their fluids moisten the ground, and the smell of rot, feces and blood linger in the air. _

_All who sees this hell tremble in fear for it is a wasteland of death. _

_All who see it but him. For he is Vlad the Impaler."_

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><p>When he woke up the next morning it was with an indefinable numbness. Edmund sat up and ran his hands down his face. Everything from the previous day came back to him, but it all felt unreal. He looked around the camp and saw that most were still on the cusp of waking. He the third to rise. Keefang came strolling back into the camp just as he sat up. "Your Majesty?"<p>

"Where is Nimwey?" He looked around the camp and saw only his four subjects and Peter. Four of whom were still sleeping.

"Missing, Sire." He came over and sat down in front of his king as to not alert the others.

Edmund felt his heart pound. "Since when?" He hopped to his feet and shot a look to see if Vala was still sleeping. She was the one most likely to rise due to her highly attuned senses.

"Before dawn, your Majesty. I did not hear her leave." His mouth was frothing with what Edmund assumed to be anger.

He frowned. "You didn't see any tracks, did you?" He felt he might already know the answer. None of the Irins were stupid enough to leave tracks and just because she had only recently joined the group didn't mean she was new to her profession. Shadows through history indeed.

Keefang shook his head and stared at his king seriously. "I don't like her out there. I smelled something rotten about her the second we met." His voice had turned to a low growl.

Edmund nodded and got to his feet. "Wake the others, will you?" He strapped his swords to his waist and back. "I'll go look around."

Keefang nodded as his king slipped off. The sun was still hanging low in the sky. The light was a dusty yellow. It was easy to see, and yet he found no tracks, not that he doubted Keefang's conclusion. He kneeled in front of a creek to drink some of the rippling water. This area was riddled with rivers. All of them were filled to the brim with melted ice from the mountains, though only the tallest had ice on their peaks all year around. Edmund wondered why they were still bursting this far into the year. Summer was nearing its end and the rivers should have slimmed down as the melted water rushed into other areas. All his quiet musings died, though, when a shiver ran down his back.

Suddenly the forest seemed a little less friendly, he realized, as he looked around. The quiet dawn felt like it hid something. Everything was calm. Birds were chirping softly as they woke up. A larger animal called for its mate far away. He guessed it was a moose. Suddenly an old memory popped into his mind. Once when Oreius and he had spoken about an exploratory trip into the west. At the beginning of his reign. He stood and headed back to the camp. Peter was up and stomping out the last embers of last night's fire. Bacchus and Nex were packing their blankets away. Vala and Keefang were missing.

"The other two?"

"Vala went to relieve herself and Keefang wanted to see if he could find the trail back to the others, your Majesty." Bacchus said.

Peter looked up when his brother spoke, but didn't interrupt. Edmund nodded and took off in the direction Bacchus indicated. "I'll be right back." he said to his brother. He found Keefang after following his trail for a few minutes. "Keefang, may I ask you a question?" he asked as he hopped off a rock next to the Wolf.

The Animal stopped and turned to face his king. "Of course, King Edmund."

"It's about the feral Wolves in the Wild,"

Keefang nodded for him to continue.

"Is it true they were deserters of Jadis' army?"

His scout nodded. "They were led by Maugrim's lieutenant. They escaped here after the war."

Edmund nodded slowly as he processed the information. "Should I worry?"

Keefang looked at his king for a moment. "Perhaps a little concern would not be amiss. Their allegiance was never fully established."

The Just King nodded again and looked over the calm forest. "How many were there?"

The Wolf sighed and considered the question. "Maugrim's legion was of about two hundred. Half of them were Wolves."

"And were all of them deserters?"

"Only about fifty."

"So I could have fifty Wolves or more, running around these woods?" Keefang nodded. "And any of them could just as well be against us as they could be _with_ us?"

"Yes, Sire."

Edmund took a deep breath and looked over the land. "Then pray luck is on our side."

"I always do, Sire." Keefang let his sharp eyes turn back to the forest.

Edmund briefly considered talking to the Wolf about Beth. Asking him how badly her death had affected him. He knew wolves lived in packs, but he also knew young males were often sent away from their families to join other packs or start new ones. He knew Keefang hadn't spoken with his mother for almost five years, and that he and Beth had never been very close. Still, the sadness that had overtaken the Wolf's eyes made him shudder. If Peter had died he could not have been so brave. "I'll get the others. Wait here for us."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Edmund walked straight over to his brother, who was curiously waiting to hear about the talk. "Did you hear about Nimwey?"

He nodded and a dark expression slipped over Peter's face. "Yes. Keefang told me."

Edmund worried he might be biased against her. "Do you remember the Warrows?"

Peter frowned a second. "The Wolves from Jadis' army? Didn't they desert?"

Edmund nodded and pulled his brother a bit away when he noticed Vala's ears tick in their direction. It was sometimes hard for their subjects not to eavesdrop since most of them had superior hearing to humans. "Yes. They fled before the battle and came _here_."

"To the Western Wild?" Peter's eyes widened.

Edmund nodded. He was unsure of what to do other than be a little more alert.

"Then we have a rogue Irin and a pack of up to fifty Wolves who we can't trust?"

"You don't know that she's rogue-"

"If she left, she's no doubt done it before, Ed." He was whispering intently. "I know you share something with them, and I love you for that," Edmund's eyes softened. "But you also need to realize that Romel might not know his friend as well as he thinks."

Edmund took in what his brother had to say. It seemed Peter was able to distinguish between Romel and his men. That meant he was beginning to see them as individuals. Though Nimwey might not be who she seemed, it still gave him hope to know his brother was starting to warm up to them. "We move quietly and keep an eye out?"

Peter nodded and clapped his shoulder when Bacchus came over with the kings' satchels. "Are you ready, Sires?"

They both nodded and took their bags. All of them helped carry what little they had, which wasn't much. Most of it had been with the others when the path collapsed. None of them had eaten breakfast for that same reason. They had agreed to wait till they were reunited with Barrow's group. The grey Wolf had been a slave for Jadis as well, but had deserted _before_ the battle and fought on the side of Aslan. As far as both Edmund and Peter were concerned he had more than earned his place among them.

They set out carefully. Keefang walked ahead and found the safest trail for them to travel along. Peter was worried about aftershocks.

What little Edmund knew about earthquakes he had learned from southern Calormenes who had them regularly, and from school books he didn't remember reading.

The path began to rise rather suddenly. Only half an hour of walking led them to a crossing. Two paths intersected. One went south-west and the other due west. "They should be here." Peter announced quietly. They were all scouting the area for any signs of them.

"Any sign of Nimwey?" Edmund asked Keefang softly.

The Wolf shook his head.

"Now what?" he then asked his brother.

Peter was looking back in the direction the others should have come from. "Keefang, any tracks to suggest they ever passed by here?"

"None, your Majesty."

Peter wordlessly looked at Vala. "I smell nothing, your Majesty."

He sighed and gripped Rhindon as if to make sure it was still strapped to his waist. "We head east."

The walk was shorter than any of them expected. It didn't take long to reach the site of the collapsed path. From there they had a clear view of the forest and of a deep ravine with a foaming river at the bottom. Edmund shuddered to think how many of their kinsmen had fallen in.

"Sires, I see tracks." Vala announced as she hopped down to the path from a raised root.

"Who from?" Peter asked.

Edmund could feel his fingers tingling. It was a strange sense of déjà vu that haunted him. A feeling that he had seen this before. Felt it. "Humans and Narnians alike," Vala answered. She hesitated with a glance at Edmund before she continued. "And something else."

Edmund immediately bit onto the information like a bloodhound. "Like what?"

"Like nothing I've ever seen before."

Peter sighed and veered away from their subject. She understood. His frustration wasn't with her, but with the entire situation.

"That's not to say I do not recognize them." she finished in a deep voice. She was only looking at Edmund now. "They're ogre tracks, your Grace."

Edmund felt his pulse rise. His body heated, his breathing quickened, his nerve endings burned. "Were the others taken?" Peter asked and stepped forward.

Vala nodded. "That would be my guess, Sire."

The oldest brother then turned and found a very pale king staring at him. His eyes softened and he quickly eliminated the distance between them. "Are you alright?" He put a hand on Edmund's shoulder and drew him close.

He nodded, jerking. He swallowed and tried to answer, but found his words had quite left him. He hoped the silent assurance would be enough.

Peter returned the nod and turned to Vala. "I want you to scout out the path and tell us if anything comes our way. Keefang," The Wolf stood to attention. "Hang back. Make yourself invisible. Let us know if anything comes at us from behind."

He nodded dutifully and whirled away without a sound. When Peter looked Vala had disappeared as well. Only Bacchus and Nex remained. Both looked a might bit worried, but also concerned. Their concern was obviously for Edmund since he was still frozen in place. Peter leaned down to catch his eye and spoke very slowly. "We need to start moving."

Edmund nodded, but nothing happened.

Peter urged him and reluctantly the Just King began walking. They walked very slowly. No one spoke and all four kept their eyes on their surroundings. Peter knew they would be alerted long before anything showed up, but was still afraid to be surprised by some great, drooling monster. More than that, he was afraid for his brother. That he wouldn't be able to move should the enemy find them. If they were spotted by an ogre there was no doubt it would charge. They were massive and hardly anything scared them. Add to that they had a metabolism that made them ravenous. It wasn't unheard of for them to eat their own. Often starting with the weakest.

Two hours found them walking in the opposite direction they were supposed to be heading. They had walked most of the day with only a water to fill their stomachs. Bacchus had some of the honey biscuits Peter had had and shared them willingly with his friend and the kings. As afternoon fell the group was starting to get weary. They hadn't yet seen any sign of Irins, Narnians or ogres and were beginning to fear Vala had lost the trail.

Right until she was suddenly standing in front of them with her tail swishing back and forth, and with a feral look in her eye. "I've picked up their scent." she whispered.

"And I as well," Keefang announced when he arrived from behind them. The Fauns jumped a little, but quickly settled.

"How close?" Peter asked.

"A few miles and you'll be able to smell them as well as I can now."

He nodded and looked to his brother. Edmund had a look in his eyes that made Peter worry. It was a look that often intimidated most men, regardless of size. It was a look that spoke of barely controlled rage. One that often got Edmund in trouble. "Are you here?" the oldest brother whispered.

Edmund looked up at him and simply stared. His chin was lowered and his shoulders were hunched. With a fluent movement he reached up and pulled the two cross-swords from his back. They were short, barely the length of his arm, wide and flat. Meant for slashing through air. For chopping off heads.

Peter sighed and drew Rhindon. He had no doubt his brother would be able to fight, but also knew he was too unfocused. That he was concerned for their friends and that he was _angry_. More than Peter had ever seen him. But they had no other options. "Let's go."

**PpPpPpPpPpPpPpPpPpP**

Romel was trapped on his knees. His voice had been worn thin from screaming. His cheeks were stiff from flaking tears. His eyes were sore. He looked at those around him and saw that many of them had dried tears on their cheeks as well.

A small group of ogres had surprised them. Only eight or nine. Two of them had been killed before they were overrun. But overrun they were. Tied down as well. _Eaten_.

Narnians… Irins… It didn't matter to Romel anymore. Their screams all sounded the same. The sounds still echoed in his ears. Still made his flesh crawl.

He understood now more than ever why Edmund had reacted so violently to the memories of his last meeting with these creatures. Nightmarish monsters. He looked up when a sound reached him. The people tied up beside him heard it as well. Some a little later than others.

It came from the darkness straight ahead and sounded a little like a whistle. Like something sharp, swinging through the air. It was there one second and gone the next. Valera looked at him with small traces of recognition on her face. The Narnian beside him, Tremble Sprillow-Tail, a Dog, was staring intently into the dimming light until his tail wagged once. "It's the kings," he whispered in awe. He whimpered and his tail began wagging faster. He tried to rise despite his restraints.

The Dog was one of only four Narnians still alive. The rest had been killed. _Eaten_. The other three were Barrow, Tussle the Dwarf-lady and a Stag named Petros. Romel's heart clenched when he was reminded how many Irins were dead. _Who_ had died. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes over the lives that had been lost. For the screams that still replayed in his head.

This expression was the one that greeted Edmund when he entered the area where they were being held. Beside him he had one of his Faun guards, Romel couldn't remember his name. They had both drawn their swords and looked extremely cautious. Romel guessed Peter was with the other guards, searching out the threat. That was the impression he had gotten of him. Someone who very courageously, albeit stupidly, sought out the enemy first.

Edmund seemed more like the "thinker" of the two. Had he known the events that preceded their arrival he would have edited his view of both kings. Everyone there held Edmund's gaze without a sound. They all knew danger was near and that even the slightest mistake could kill them. These ogres weren't terribly large, but even their relatively small size would make them difficult to kill.

Edmund's deep eyes drifted over the prisoners, and as they did they filled with emotion. "Where are the others?" he whispered when he was close to Romel.

The pack leader hung his head when Edmund began cutting his binds. "Dead," Romel whispered back.

Edmund's head shot up as he again counted the remaining. His mouth fell open and a shiver shook him. A fat tear dripped from one eye. He caught Archer's sad eyes and felt a second shockwave go through him. "Lauviah?" His voice was a whimper. He kept looking over and over the gathered. "Arth-Arthur?" He refocused on Romel.

The Irin held his stare like a man without a single feeling left. "Dead." he whispered. Beside him Tremble whimpered pitifully. "So are the rest."

Everyone King Edmund didn't see before him, dead. Tears sprang to his eyes. It wasn't possible. They couldn't be.

Romel knew it would hit the young king hard. He saw it when it did. It was like watching the sky. Clear one second and shadowed by ominous clouds the next. His eyes became bottomless pits into which the enemy would tumble. Hopefully he would send them all to hell, screaming.

Recovering from shock was never easy. It could never be forced. But as it settled, sorrow was not the emotion that replaced it. Wrath was. "Where are they?" Edmund's voice had suddenly become the very essence of those thunderclouds. A dark hiss that could almost have come from the cruelest of demons.

Romel didn't know if he was asking about the dead or the ogres. It didn't matter. "Don't know."

Just then new footsteps interrupted. Peter and Nex arrived and saw Edmund and Bacchus crouched in front of the others. Still trying to free them, but the straps were made from rough leather and would require more than a knife. Edmund swirled to face his brother and slowly straightened as he did.

Peter's eyes were swimming. He was heaving deep breaths. Nex looked just as shocked, palefaced and shooting his eyes around. "What did you find?" Bacchus asked his kinsman. Nex just shook his head sadly. It was Peter who answered. And he wasn't looking at the Faun, but at his brother.

"Their feeding ground."

"No," Edmund froze. "No." He was up in a second, shooting in the direction his brother had just come from. Peter caught him as he passed and held on. "Let go," The Just King began struggling to free himself, more and more desperately. "I have to see them!" His shout carried and Romel didn't have to guess to know that at least one of their enemies heard.

"You don't want to," Peter whispered intently. But Edmund kept struggling to free himself. He became more and more desperate.

"Let go!"

"No. Edmund, trust me," Peter begged and held on. Suddenly his brother stilled. His frantic breathing changed to deep sobs. He went lax in his brother's arms and sank to the ground, crying. Peter followed him and held on tightly. What he had seen would haunt him for the rest of his life and he barely knew the dead beyond their official capacity. It would murder his brother to see how the ogres had ripped them apart. Edmund's sobs became careless roars. He held onto his brother like a man, poised to fall off a cliff.

Peter clinged back with tears flowing freely and caught Romel's eyes. He had no doubt they had screamed. Ogres liked to play with their food, he knew. They _enjoyed_ inflicting pain. In comparison to his brother's heartbroken screams his own sobs were pitiful. He wasn't crying for the dead, he realized. He was crying for his brother. For the four remaining Irins who looked like they had lost the things most precious to them. For his soldiers who had been forced to listen as their friends were ripped apart.

"I'm s-sorry," he whimpered.

Edmund drew another deep breath and screamed again before he settled. He clung to his big brother and let the tears fall. Peter hadn't known who had died, they were too mangled to identify. But, looking at the Irins now, he knew who was missing. The blonde woman and the tall red-head. Lauviah and Arthur. The two Edmund seemed closest to. His heart broke again while he listened to his brother's inconsolable wails. It seemed he would never stop crying until suddenly a howl echoed through the forest. Bacchus and Nex paused their work of freeing the others to stare at their surroundings.

A second roar quickly followed the first. Most had now been released.

At the sound Edmund had stilled completely. His entire body tensed and coiled. Peter was no longer supporting him. When he straightened at the third roar Peter saw hate in his eyes. The anger from before had transformed. It had hardened and become unshakable. His brother was always formidable when he was despondent or tired. At that moment he was both and Peter saw very clearly the kind of vengeance he would unleash upon the ogres. At that moment it didn't matter if they were thrice his size. It didn't matter they were outnumbered. He wouldn't stop killing until the last of them was dead.

The young king pulled away from his brother when another roar sounded very close by. His eyes shifted from Peter's to their surroundings. With a calculated calm he stepped back and readied his twin-swords. "Stay down." Peter told the Narnians that had been released. Most were unarmed and traumatized and would be little more than in the way. He watched his brother and rose as well. Bacchus and Nex had moved away from the others with swords out. They were likely to keep fighting until the last threat was gone, as well.

"You can't do this on your own." Valera said hoarsely, as if she too had screamed. She was in the process of freeing herself with a borrowed knife, while Romel, Archer and Thale were still tied down. Peter moved, but didn't have time to free her when the first ogre suddenly burst into the clearing.

It headed straight for Edmund with its huge mouth open in a roar. But Edmund calmly allowed it to charge. His rage had internalized, Peter saw. He knew it well. It was when an otherworldly fury took you over and changed you into something else. Something unstoppable. It made you feel invincible, which in turn made you careless.

The ogre was about to crash into him when he easily twirled out of its path and brought up one sword in an almost invisible move. The ogre crashed to the ground and slid a few feet with the momentum it caused. Edmund didn't even bother to turn and look. It stayed on the ground, squirming and wailing. A diagonal cut ran across its abdomen and entrails were already spilling out.

Another roar sounded and suddenly it was as if the rest of the ogres charged all at once. The Narnians were told to guard the Irins while Peter formed a triangle with Bacchus and Nex. He looked over and saw his brother singlehandedly cut down another with one, well-placed strike.

One burst into the clearing and headed straight for the three of them. Out of nowhere he heard a loud whistle, turned, and saw that his brother was the source. Then, in a whirl of black, a furry body sped around Bacchus, Nex and Peter. Keefang lunged himself at the ogre, stopping it in its tracks. From behind he saw Vala launch onto its back. Her claws out and her teeth dug into its coarse muscles. Together they brought it down with Keefang hanging by its throat and yanking it down with vicious tugs. But one swipe of its arm flung him through the air and Vala immediately took his place. Hanging on the ogre's back she reached down and chomped into its throat until she found an artery. It twisted and turned, trying everything to dislodge her, but her long claws dug into its back and her teeth in its neck. And finally, when several liters of black blood had gushed out of its wounds, it wailed drunkenly and fell to the ground. Biting deeper into its flesh Vala crushed its spine between her teeth, killing it.

Peter and Nex were battling one and had still only managed to wound it. Another charged and he moved to guard Bacchus' flank. With a flash of fury he rarely allowed himself to feel he charged it with a cry. "_ASLAN!_"

Just as it was about to swipe, he ducked and rolled under its arm. He jabbed Rhindon and punched it through its flank to the hilt. Keeping the momentum, he rolled to his feet and took a few steps to regain equilibrium without turning back. The creature gave a strange gurgle as it stopped, staggered and fell.

He looked right and saw Bacchus and Nex fighting one of the last, killing it. Two were dead by Edmund's sword and one by Peter's. One had been killed by Vala and Keefang. And the last was wounded and still struggling to regain its stand. Peter strode over and brought his sword down through the back of its neck, severing spine from skull. It quieted instantly.

He heard Bacchus and Nex fell the last one and looked at his subjects. Vala was helping Keefang stand. He appeared unscathed, despite the fact that he sported a slight limp. Then he looked to Edmund. Behind his brother the Irins had been freed by their subjects and were coming to a stand. The same, dark look was still in Edmund's eyes. He was panting, but not from the fight so much as the anger. Both swords were still clutched in his hands and he held them so tightly they shook.

"Ed," Peter called and drew his attention. Edmund flinched and looked like he was just about to attack. "Lower your swords." he said in his most kingly voice.

Edmund's anger left him and was replaced by shock. In a second his entire body relaxed. He cleaned the blades and sheathed them. No one spoke as they came to stand. Most were still in shock. As he looked around at the battered expressions an idea suddenly came to Peter. An idea that relieved the sense of doom slightly. "Bacchus, Nex." Both Fauns looked up. "Vala, Keefang." The Wolf and Mountain Lion looked as well. "Kneel."

All four glanced at each other, but obeyed their king. They came forth and kneeled. Behind Peter was his brother, the Irins and the last of the Narnians.

With as much poise as he could muster he cleaned his sword and ordered the Fauns to do the same. "Bacchus, son of Orpheus, I dub thee Sir Rushblade." The Faun's face lit up. A deep silence settled over the clearing as all realized what was happening. "Nex, son of Almod, I dub thee Sir Swiftswing." The Faun drew a deep sigh of admiration.

Peter could feel the eyes of everyone on his back and on the faces of the soldiers before him. "Keefang Ravenwolf, son of Suki and Hellon, I dub thee Sir Silvertooth." The Wolf bowed to him, meekly. "Lis-Vala, daughter of Shandra of the house of Lis, I dub thee Lady Ironjaw." The tension lifted and a content silence fell in its place. "Rise as knights of the Order of Protectors."

The four rose, not to applause or laughter, but to a reverent calm. Peter felt the stiffness in his body ease as he took in their faces. Not thrilled or uplifted as they should have been, but somber and well aware of the honor that had been bestowed upon them. They were the first knights of a new order. As such they represented the beginning of a new time.

With a nod to each of them Peter turned to his brother. Edmund looked slightly less dazed, but still shocked. There was no smile. No cheeky grin to which Peter had become so attached. Only the realization of what had just passed. He guessed his brother would never be able to retell what exactly transpired if he was asked. It was partly why he had knighted the Narnians on such a spur-of-the-moment decision. To draw his brother away from the shock.

He realized it had failed. That this day would remain a red haze of sorrow, wrath and death. That every knight of the Order of Protectors named henceforth would bear the same weight on _their_ shoulders. It was a title that would only be given to those who overcame true evil. Those who overcame death.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, so, so. Two more Irins crossed off the list. I will bet my computer that none of you saw this coming? Prove me wrong? And a lot of you probably figured "Well we had a pretty action-filled chapter last time so this time it'll probably be one where they deal with the aftermath of it all." To you I say: No. Things will _not_ slow down. There will be _no_ dealing with conflicted emotions until...later...sometime. And there will be _no_ reprieve.

Also, you may have noticed that Keefang and Vala were adressed differently than the Fauns. That's simply my own love for details, getting in the way. I've made up different customs and ways of address just to make my job a little more fun :) Hope you liked, if so (or not) lemme know. Rant, ramble, scream, cry - whatever makes the loss feel a little less severe. And as an official notice (I feel I can say this now without spoiling): This story is about loss, whereas the previous one was about discovery.


	17. Chapter 16: The Three Apples

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, but my computer.

**Author's Note:** "The Three Apples" was possibly the first ever murder mystery ever written. Which was also why I knew it would make a good title for this chapter. _You_ all have to read to find out :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: "The Three Apples"<strong>

"_One little finger taps the drum, one little thumb. _

_Another little finger taps the drum, the second, little thumb. _

_Both little thumbs go barrumppabum-bum. _

_And both little thumbs tap the drum. _

_Then one little thumb goes tharump-a-bump-bump._

_Severed from the hand, it's only a lump._

_The boy who played has suddenly stopped._

_One head shorter his height has dropped._

_On the looming streets of darkness hopped,_

_A shadowy man with claws that chopped._

_Never again the thumbs will drum._

_Because the boy who played is in a barrel of rum._

_And whenever you ask for the boys who play,_

_A shadowy man will smile and say:_

_All the little boys go barrump-a-bump-bump,_

_But none of them can play without their thumb._

_All the little boys go tra-tratra-tra-tread,_

_But none of them can play without their head."_

* * *

><p>Banners in white and gold waved in strong ocean breezes. They snapped and crackled in the wind and alerted all to their emperor's decision. They were war standards. Blazing signals to all who laid eyes upon them that the Tisroc was calling his army to him. As it were he had only half of the forces.<p>

Jazir was a cunning man and had managed to lure the other half of the royal army onto his side. Two thousand soldiers at arms on either side. With more amassing on both sides. Tarkaans, loyal to the Tisroc, were surging to Tashbaan and men, loyal to Jazir, meeting him in the desert somewhere.

In force Jazir and the Tisroc were similar in many ways, but what Jazir _didn't_ have was an army of Narnians on his side. Calormene soldiers filled the streets of Tashbaan when Lucy looked down from the high seated window. She watched over the proceedings with a pronounced frown. She knew the Tisroc wouldn't mind an open war. She knew this was a blatant attempt to draw Jazir out. A mockery. She scoffed. The hot air ruffled her long hair. Dried the sweat on her body before it ever had a chance to soil the fine gown.

Sometime during the night she had woken from a nightmare. She had had the overwhelming sense that her soldiers were in danger. Susan had been alerted to her sister's strange feelings along with the official message to aid the Tisroc. The Narnian army was being outfitted and would march out in little less than a week.

In an unexpected twist the Tisroc had banned all forms of communication in and out of the city. With the Narnian force now moving south he deemed that all communication was an unnecessary risk. Lucy's couriers had politely been put under lock and key. An unspoken threat of death on their heads should they disobey the Tisroc's command.

She didn't feel safe. She felt trapped. Cut off from her siblings and her subjects. The only ones she had left were twenty five Narnians at arms within the castle. They too had been banned from making any contact to the outside world. Trapped and stupid. How had she not suspected this kind of betrayal? The man was vile and petty. She should have known his own fears would have driven him to cross that unseen line. To hold a royal against their will. But then again, the Tisroc had held his wits about him this far. He had seemed like a man of reason, if not a slightly warped one. She wouldn't have thought him bold enough to actually provoke a war with Narnia. Lucy was sure she could talk her brothers down from the anger that resulted in her "visit" to Tashbaan. But she was also sure that Narnia would cut Calormen off. New trading routes would have to be established and old ones would have to be cut.

And all of it because she couldn't see more than two moves ahead. Edmund would be disappointed.

The only support the Tisroc had was from his ministers. All foreign nationals had been asked to leave or join in the fighting. Wisely most had chosen the first option. The ministers had agreed that any attempt at communication could fall into the hands of Jazir and thus lead to the downfall of the kingdom, which was why they had now closed the city limits. The citizens in the lower streets were trapped in Tashbaan while the nobles hid behind their palace walls. Lucy had swallowed down a lump when the Tisroc's decision had been made. She had felt a tremor in her hands when she realized that she would have to try and get word to the north regardless. And her heart had beat a little faster, though she let nothing on, when she realized that all attempts at communicating with the outside world would be deemed as acts of high treason.

She was trapped.

But Lucy had more resources at her disposal than the Tisroc realized. When the immediate shock lifted over his outrageous, and far from stealthy way of keeping her in his castle, wore off she returned to her room. She had more spies than he could imagine. One of them was a Sparrow named Russet. Her main assignment for a year had been to guard Rabadash and make sure that he didn't attempt something like he had two years prior. Since Lucy's arrival the Sparrow had been reassigned to guard her queen, whilst in the Calormene capitol.

Another spy was Onyx, the Raven. He had been tasked a long time ago to keep track of any indirect threats to the Narnian empire by patrolling the mountain pass from the Great Desert into Archenland. The last anyone had heard from him he had discovered Jazir's plans to gather an army. Lucy assumed he had followed the former Kahen into the desert and would return when something warranted her attention. Besides the Sparrow and the Raven there were several Pigeons and even humans. Animals had the advantage of being able to move around without being noticed, but there were places only humans could go. One such human was Lark. The prostitute who catered to wealthy as well as poor.

She lived in the largest house of ill repute by the north-side of the Tashbaan River. For the past two years she had been spying on her employers as well as the men in her bed. The two brothers who owned a dozen houses and made ridiculous sums of money off them. Lark spoke of their dislike for the Tisroc. They loathed him because of the heightened taxes placed on all pleasure houses. Taxes that fell directly into his own pockets.

They had been under Lucy's watchful eye for some time.

That day, in the billowing heat of the Calormene capitol, Lucy palmed a letter she had written the night before. It was in less than one hundred words. At that moment she was only waiting for a certain spy to land and take it to Lark. A Pigeon landed with a flutter of feathers and cooed at its queen a moment. Without a word Lucy held out her hand and the Pigeon hopped into her palm. "Hello,"

"Your Majesty," It bowed quickly in its fashion.

"How is everything going?"

"The Tisroc is losing his mind, my Queen. He's talking to himself." the Pigeon, Flux, said in a whisper. He had been assigned to spy on Shehyzan.

Lucy tried to smile and alleviate some of his nervousness. "Don't worry. Soon he won't be a threat." Flux stopped batting his wings and settled down somewhat. "Can you take this letter for me?"

"Certainly." He held out a leg and allowed Lucy to tie it on. "To where am I taking this?"

"To the pleasure house on the north side of Tashbaan River. A house with a blue door. To a woman who hums when she cleans. Her name is Lark."

"Lovely name." Flux praised, eagerly listening.

Lucy smiled, genuinely this time. "When you give her the message, wait until she's read it. She might want you to send bring something back to me. Whatever the case, come straight back here. Meet me on this ledge by nightfall. And tell her Azrak says hello."

"As you wish, my Queen." He bowed one last time and took off into the blinding sunlight.

Lucy watched him go with a renewed feeling of strength. She only hoped Lark would help.

* * *

><p>It was nearing noon when Rabadash found himself roaming the halls of his palace. The noon prayers had been rung in and everywhere he looked was empty. It wasn't until he turned down a hall he saw someone he hadn't expected. Speaking with his advisor Kafir Nuwe was the Minister of War. The tall and bird-like man was leaned close to his supreme general. The two looked like they were discussing something terribly volatile. Rabadash leaned against the cold wall and hid from view, contemplating his next move. With five deep breaths he stepped forward, announcing his presence.<p>

The Minister looked up when Kafir did and smiled. "My Prince," Even his voice was slightly predator'ish.

Rabadash approached them and nodded to the minister. Obviously they both expected the dishonored prince to greet them and keep walking. When he didn't Kafir glanced at his commander insecurely. "Minister," Rabadash said and smiled. "Might I have a word in private?"

Though he was little better than a noble, he was still of royal birth. He knew everyone gossiped about him behind his back, but he also knew he still held the power he had before. Nowadays he only had to use it a little more stealthily. The Minister bid Kafir good day and followed the prince into a hookah lounge. Velvet drapes caught the scent of apple tobacco and kept out sunlight at the pleasure of those who preferred to sin in the dark.

He took a seat in one of the plush divans and gestured for the minister to do the same. To anyone who wasn't caught up in the obscene formalities of Calormene custom, the scene looked utterly ridiculous. Each man was sitting as far back as the divans allowed and both were almost swallowed by the downy cushions.

"Is there a reason for this honor, my Prince?" The minister looked calm as always.

Rabadash smiled. "I overheard an interesting conversation the other day," He watched carefully for any signs of distress, and even though the minister showed none he knew they both already knew which incident he was referring to.

"It must have been unique for you to bless me with this retelling." The minister reached forward and poured himself a drink of water.

"Most unique." Rabadash smiled. Both were now positive what the other was really saying. "I learned much from the conversation you had with Emman Tarkaan." He refused to call Emman by his bought title. The minister was different. He was a man of war. Rabadash respected war.

The minister remained stoic as always. "Why did you not join us? The Tisroc's son is always welcome." He held out his drink to toast him.

Rabadash grabbed a wine pitcher and poured a drink as well. The two toasted. "I didn't want to interfere. And I have come to realize one can learn much from listening to men talking. The slaves have the most interesting conversations when they think their masters aren't listening." He smiled.

The minister smiled with, despite the obvious threat. "Valuable information, to be sure. You would have made an excellent king."

Despite his placid tone Rabadash felt his blood boil. "I still might."

The minister looked up. Traces of surprise caught in his eyes. Even a little glee if Rabadash was reading him right. "Such suggestions go against your Father's wishes, may-his-reign-be-blissful. Do they not? They might even be considered treasonous."

Rabadash felt anger at this _servant_ overstepping his boundaries. "My Father, Tash-kiss-him, thinks me weak. Should I prove differently he would surely praise my courage and all those who followed me." He sat back and sipped his wine.

"Followers?"

He smiled. "I require an invisible hand to deal out justice where it is needed."

"What kind of justice does my prince refer to?"

"The kind that makes me soul heir to the throne."

This time there was definite shock on his face. "Fratricide," The minister sat back as well and nodded. "A concept your father, may Tash catch him when he falls, embraced well in his day." _When too many kings rule the board, one will inevitably overthrow the rest. _On the outside the minister looked calm.

Rabadash smiled in a most challenging way. He held out his drink in salute. "Such justice is not hard to enforce, is it?"

The minister's smile had vanished, but he still held his goblet poised for a toast. "Not hard at all," The bird of prey resurfaced in his expression. "…my King."

* * *

><p>"The Tisroc demands our presence, my Queen." Trillian announced in the doorway.<p>

Lucy turned in her seat with anger making its way into her face. "He _demands_?"

The young Centaur nodded.

"All of us? Not just me?"

He nodded again.

Lucy felt her heart flutter. This was unexpected. Things she couldn't predict were always stressful in one way or another. She rolled out of her seat. Her light dress, trailing behind her like snowflakes in a still night. She had tied her hair into a long braid to keep it out of her face. A simpler version of the ostentatious hairstyles most Calormene women preferred. She was joined outside by Astos and the rest of her guard. Twenty five soldiers accompanied their queen into the throne room where the Tisroc sat with his minsters, his sons and his generals on all sides.

Lucy instantly felt fear when she stepped into the room. Without a word she looked at Astos and conveyed her concerns to him. He returned an almost imperceptible nod, letting her know he understood.

"Queen Lucy!" the Tisroc greeted.

Lucy had long ago realized that the titles she and her sister held were little more than window decorations to the Tisroc. To most they were intimidating, but not to the fat king who sat upon his throne of gold. "O Tisroc." she returned. Her guards stopped as one, in a long line across the room, whilst she continued three steps forward. Her white dress and fair skin made her stand out in a room of colorful, dark-skinned _men_. She was like a little dove.

"It has come to Our attention that messengers have left the palace despite Our expressed orders." He didn't raise his voice. In fact he hardly moved except to breathe.

And yet it was more efficient on Lucy than if he had shouted and stomped the floor. She shuddered, suddenly feeling cold. "What do you mean, o Tisroc?" She kept her voice calm, but still somehow felt the tension in the room rise. It was spiraling out of control.

Then the unthinkable happened. A soldier in the Tisroc's ranks stepped forward with a dead Pigeon in his hands. Blood covered its flaxen feathers and its head dangled from its neck, obviously broken. Lucy's blood froze one second and turned to liquid fire the next. "How _dare_ you!" The sound of every Narnian drawing their swords echoed behind her. Just then she cared little about her own safety. The damned Tisroc had gone and _killed_ one of her subjects, and yet he looked completely calm. That in itself was a declaration of war. She was simmering to hear his justification for the heartless homicide.

"What do you have to say for your defense, young Queen?" His voice boomed through the hall, but Lucy suddenly had trouble feeling intimidated.

She took two more steps forward and heard one of her guards hiss at the Calormene soldiers. "What have _you_ to say for _yourself_?" she screamed. Slowly she was gripping the knife she kept in the folds of her dress.

"Arrest her for treason!" the Tisroc boomed.

In a second the hall became alight with sound. Shouts and screams as the Calormene soldiers attacked and her soldiers fought back. She could never tell if it was arrogance or stupidity that repeatedly made the Calormenes underestimate them. She swung out her knife in a quick jab when one soldier came to grab her. He hadn't even drawn his sword. She gripped his hand, swung under his arm and stabbed him through the heart.

Only then did they seem to notice that they were not dealing with dumb farm animals, but _very_ well trained soldiers. But all the training could not save them against an enemy four times their size. The small group was quickly overtaken after the first Narnian soldier was killed. Lucy called for a halt and her men reluctantly obeyed. They were ordered to lay down arms and surrender.

Lucy hurled her knife at one of the royal sons in a last defiant gesture, and sneered when he yelped. If they thought she was just a pretty girl they had another thing coming. It wasn't the first time she had been taken hostage and it would probably not be the last.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, we have scheming and generally mysterious behaviour. Lucy's offcially a prisoner in the palace, though I'm thinking that most of you probably saw that one coming a mile away :) Remember when I said this story wouldn't sloe down and that it would include all four siblings somewhat equally? Yeah, they're not gonna want to inspire me to write anything with them in it ever again.


	18. Chapter 17: The Hierophant

**Disclaimer:** Lewis owns, I borrow.

**Author's Notes:** The passage in italics is written by me, as was the one in the previous chapter. Sorry for the wait, but I'm happy to tell that my muse seems to have reappeared :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: "The Hierophant"<strong>

"_Like a thick river it flows. Over the earth, torching everything in its path. It burns and smells. Animals scatter in fear of the heat it brings. The mountain has spoken. The voice of their god has mixed with the air and now his blood flows freely across the earth. Hot and sticky. Could one only stand to watch one would see. They would see their god bleed."_

* * *

><p>The forest became more and more dense. Almost all the trees were pine or beech. Spoiled nuts and cones littered the ground and crunched when stepped on. A small group of men, women, Animals and Creatures were walking quietly along a path. No one spoke. Few of them carried long stretchers in pairs. One stretcher to two humans or Fauns. On the stretchers were not the injured. Not the weak or the sick.<p>

On the stretchers were pieces of blood soaked cloth that covered lumps of flesh. Flesh that had once belonged to living creatures. Humans and Animals alike. The flesh of friends. Edmund carried one stretcher with Romel. The Just King walked at the front and Romel behind. Peter carried another with Archer in front. Only the barest words were spoken. Only words of command or information.

It seemed the sorrow that had settled over the company would not easily be dispelled. Like so they walked until the sun set. They made camp in silence. Most went to sleep, but couldn't rest. Those that were nocturnal chose to stay awake and guard over the rest.

The next day things happened much the same way. They rose, they dressed, they grabbed the stretchers and no one talked. Not a sound could be heard but for the creaking of pinecones and acorn until dusk. Not until a shout echoed in the distance. A voice of authority. Everyone looked up, but only a few drew their weapons. Most of them recognized the call.

It was a scout of the nomadic tribes. Soon after more shouts joined the first and then the group saw the first friendly faces they had seen since parting with Zoren and his guild. Edmund hadn't realized they had traveled so far north. The first nomad they saw was none other than the Rudari matriarch, Miriam, who suddenly appeared on the path in front of them. With her sad eyes she looked over the Irins and Narnians. Eyes that only saddened further when she noticed their somber attitude and the bloody bundles they carried between them.

Not long after his wife had revealed herself to the party, did her husband come as well. Zoren stepped onto the path with the same desolate expression on his face.

"By the Gods… What happened?"

Only three looked him in the eye. One of them was Romel. "We were attacked." His voice was a whisper of its usual timber.

Zoren looked even more distraught. "The Irins came to us just yesterday," he said, as if in shock. "Most were wounded. They said Telmarines had attacked your village."

Romel frowned at the news. "How many came to you?"

"Only a few. Those who ran." Zoren informed.

"And the rest?" Edmund asked when Romel set the stretcher down.

"Dead or taken prisoner by the Telmarines."

The mood darkened even further if such a thing was possible. All of them felt the emptiness settle in their chests. "So they're lost," Bacchus said disheartened.

Everyone turned to him. Not as if he had said exactly the right thing, but as if he, by pointing out the exact opposite, had somehow stumbled upon a higher purpose. "No." Romel's voice was slow and deadly. "We've lost enough already." He looked up at his last Irins and the four of them shared an understanding beyond what they could with others.

"We get them back," Thale said quietly in awe.

"We get them back." Romel confirmed. "But first we burn our dead." he said with his eyes on the sad bundles of bloody limbs on the ground. "We honor them and acknowledge their sacrifice."

No one argued. All thought it was the right thing to do. Edmund just wasn't sure if he _could_ do it. If he could build a funeral pyre and smell the sick scent of burning bodies. Friends of his. Just then Peter's hand settled heavily on his shoulder and he looked up into his brother's, blue eyes.

"It'll be better. Everything will be better." he whispered.

Edmund closed his eyes as Peter's hand left him, and he prayed with every ounce of strength that it was true. That time would make it all better. Would make it bearable.

**PpPpPpP**

* * *

><p>Flames licked at the blue sky as they had almost every night of their journey. Orange and yellow, burning hot. Smoke rose into the air without ever touching the ground. But the smell. The smell lingered. It was heavier and stuck to everything it touched. Clothes, hair, leaves, skin. Three, massive pyres were built and the body parts were placed reverently on each one. Rosemary and sage were thrown in by old women in passing, along with muttered blessings. And all through the forest it felt as if sorrow loomed.<p>

One night of peace before the war with the Telmarines began in all honesty. Edmund watched the fires as long as his heart let him. When he could no longer bear it, he turned and left the light. He left the people. The loss of Arthur and Lauviah was still too close. The loss of his soldiers.

The last words of Romel's eulogy still rang clearly in his mind. It had been in ancient Narnian. Beautiful and haunting. He felt the weight of their deaths even stronger now. And with a hand on his heart he stopped. Leaned his head on a tree trunk and wept. Sorrow had formed a thick knot in his chest that would not dissipate. He fisted his hand in the vest Zoren had lent him and smashed the other one against the tree.

His tears hated the silence. They demanded sound. They belonged in a screaming hurricane of wretched emotions. So in a mighty roar he let them out. The roar lessened and shrilled until it became a mournful scream. The scream then became a wail.

It was that heartbreaking wail that caught the ears of the others. Romel looked away from the fire along with Peter. The two of them were the only ones who recognized the source of the sound among all the other creis of sadness. With a glance at the high king Romel turned and left the warmth of the funeral pyre. Why the king didn't go to his brother, none of them knew. They didn't understand the sorrow that Peter felt for people he never go to know. For the subjects he couldn't protect.

The ancient soldier stepped lightly through the darkening forest until he found the source of the misery. There by the foot of a great pine, kneeled a boy. A king. His shoulders dropped miserably as he took in the sight. It was unfair for such a young man to bond with people only to lose them.

Without concern for the fragile etiquette he and the boy had established he walked over and placed a hand on his back. Edmund didn't even flinch. He wept harder until he suddenly turned and pulled the Irin close. As he cried Romel felt a stirring of love soften his heart. He cared for the boy. Had he ever had a brother of blood, he would have wanted one like this.

"Did you know that soldiers of the old days were never allotted knighthoods?" The Just King didn't respond, nor did Romel expect him to. His voice was a little shrill as well, and one can still only guess if he too was crying. Edmund would never see it, if he was. "It was believed that a true soldier didn't receive his name. That it was something he had within him that was only waiting to be released." Edmund's sobs lessened to deep breaths.

"Only three in our group ever received that honor," Romel flinched when something warm rolled down his cheek. "One was Hale," It was tears, he realized. "Another was Lauviah," With his next breath he shivered. "The third was me." The last part was only slightly better than a whispered confession. He was not a boastful man. He had long ago learned humility. And as such he hardly ever spoke of the honor he had once been bestowed. "Arthur gave them to us in his previous lifetime."

"Really?" the young man whispered.

"Really."

"What was yours?" he asked. He had yet to pull free of the embrace and was still shaking softly.

"Romel Ethal'Namen."

"The Lightbringer." Edmund sighed deeply. Fireflies were beginning to dance as the hour approached midnight.

"Lightbringer." Romel repeated. The silence that settled then was one of sadness. A golden silence. Peaceful almost. "It was never our choice to become immortal. We never really made _any_ choices until you found us." He still remembered that day so vividly. How small and pale the unconscious boy had been, there on the forest floor. Only now did he realize that he already then knew their relationship was supposed to grow. Become deeper than that between travel companions. They were always meant to be brothers in some strange way.

The realization left him feeling inexplicably light. Like the little dots of light, floating on the night air.

And as Barrow Aardenwolf and Keefang Ravenwolf howled to honor the passing of souls, two brothers in arms became brothers in bond.

**PpPpPpP**

* * *

><p>In the center of the pavilion sat Hema Zlatari, patriarch of the Zlatari house and the wealthiest of all house- or guild leaders. It was two days since they had arrived in the nomad camp, battered and fragile. Everyone of them had slept almost through the first day. Romel, Valera, Archer and Thale had spoken with their families and Peter had spoken with some of the guild leaders to get a feel for their loyalties.<p>

On this, the second night in the main camp of the nomads, a council had been called to order. The man currently in Edmund's eyes, Hema Zlatari, wore a finely crafted leather hauberk with a wolf-fur collar that had made Barrow growl in passing. His greying hair was combed to mold his face perfectly and his hands were covered with gold rings and bracelets. Around his neck he wore a massive gold chain with a polished ruby in the center. In it was cut the shape of a man.

On Hema's right sat the infamous Spalo Lyuli, oldest son of the late Spear, and on his left sat a woman Edmund recognized as Whilamina. She was perched delicately next to the pompous looking Hema with a whimsical smile directed at Edmund and sometimes his brother.

The dark haired king watched the proceedings quietly. Spalo wore an amulet he had seen on Zoren as well. A wood-carving of a horse. Zoren wore his on a leather strip, whilst Spalo had it inlaid in the brass-latch that closed his vest. Whilamina had on the same, brown dress it seemed she always wore. But on this night she wore a very delicate silver amulet around her neck. A fish. It hung from a black leather strap by its tail, and gleamed in the torchlight.

The silence was apprehensive. Everyone was hesitant to begin the meeting. Edmund and Peter had been seated on two, small chairs next to, and slightly behind, Romel. So far in the back they were almost touching the far wall of the pavilion. Peter had looked upset to be seated anywhere but the center of the room along with the house patriarchs. Especially if "anywhere" was directly behind the leader of the Irins.

He had stared at his little stool questioningly until Edmund had pulled him down with a thump. He had leaned in and whispered that they were guests here. Peter then remembered that they had no authority as kings, no laws to uphold. In other countries there were systems. Rules to maintain. Rules that ensured the acknowledgement of all sovereigns as such. Here in the savage west there were no such assurances.

"So how does this work?" Peter leaned forward to Romel and whispered.

Though the Irin looked tired beyond understanding he glanced back. He quickly returned his gaze to the three house leaders whilst he answered Peter. "Hema Zlatari runs the Zlatari house. Their specialty is mining gold and making it into jewelry. That makes his the wealthiest house and the one to watch," he whispered. "Spalo Lyuli is the patriarch of the Lyuli house after his father died. They're master horse breeders, but not as powerful as the Zlataris."

"What about the woman? She looks familiar." The silence still hung in the room, but beside him Edmund looked like he knew exactly what they were waiting for. Either that or he possessed an almost divine patience.

"She's the representative of the third house. Luri."

"Why is she there? Shouldn't it be a man like the others?"

"She's here because no one has heard from Whillam Luri for decades. His great great grandfather was the one who organized all the guilds and established the three houses. They're fishermen and live by a lake deep in the mountains somewhere. Only a few people know where." He glanced back and found Peter's face unnervingly close to his own. "Whilamina is one of them and as such she represents them. Also, she's his mother."

"What are they waiting for-" Suddenly a hand yanked him back by the collar and he thumped into his seat. Edmund sent him a scornful glare that quieted Peter before he had a chance to object.

Then with a clearing of throats Hema Zlatari called the meeting of houses into session. Before the two patriarchs and Whilamina sat several rows of guild patriarchs. Two of which were Hema's brothers. The oldest was Hobi Zlatari Sanso. Patriarch of the Sanso guild by marriage to Villa Sanso. Among the guild patriarchs was Zoren as well. Sitting among old men Edmund had seen him with on other occasions. It appeared the patriarchs sat with those who shared their views on things.

In total there were about thirty guild leaders in the pavilion. All of them facing either Hema or Whilamina. With a superfluous swipe of his cape, Hema got out of his seat. "Welcome all." He looked at the faces in front of him, purposely not looking anyone but Hobi directly in the eye.

"For years our peoples have been hunted by Telmarines."

"Aren't they half Telmarines-" Peter whispered to his brother, but was shushed instantly.

"We have become close friends with the Irins, whom we have helped many times."

Edmund frowned unconsciously. He knew the Irins had helped the gypsies more than the gypsies had helped them.

"Through this friendship we have become stronger. We have come to rely on the services they provide and the support their presence lends us."

Next to his brother, Peter suddenly noticed how Hema hadn't looked at Spalo even once. Whilamina he had greeted with a deep reverence, but the second house leader had barely gotten a glance.

"But by this friendship we have also become weaker."

For the first time since sitting down Peter's attention snapped to what the gold-patriarch was actually saying.

"Through this friendship we have come to rely on a force that we thought would withstand the passing of time."

In front of them Edmund thought he saw Romel's shoulders drop.

"We are not warriors like our friends. The wolves..." he drifted off. His eyes slid over the crowd until they landed on Romel's. Something sad slipped over him. "The wolf protects man, horse and fish." His voice ebbed out into a whisper. "We cannot protect _you_."

Peter looked on in outrage. Were they to do nothing? He glanced at his brother and immediately back to Hema. Edmund had a granite-hard expression in his eyes.

"Could we fight, we would."

"Therea'is samwaane who can," Whilamina said in her warbled accent.

Edmund realized the only reason they weren't speaking their bastardized version of Telmarian was because Romel was present. Possibly even because he and Peter were present. The old woman let her eyes drift over to Zoren two rows down, and onto Edmund. Her brown eyes met his black ones and a sly smile tugged at her lips.

Spalo Lyuli followed her line of sight to Edmund and scoffed. "To lend what little weapons we have, and what few soldiers we have bred, to the kings who cared nothing about us when we were getting slaughtered and enslaved, would be insanity." he protested. It seemed the floor had been opened. First the house representatives would voice their opinions. Then everyone else.

To Peter it was as good as an invitation to speak. He stood up and allowed every fiber of his being to exude exactly the kind of king he was. "For our negligence we apologize," He looked around at all men in the pavilion. He knew even more were listening in the darkness outside. "But the ages of which you speak were hard on Narnians and nomads alike." He looked directly at Spalo. He figured Edmund already had some idea who the man was, and would ask him about it later. "Our reign is young. We have not yet sat on our thrones for a decade and we have no predecessors."

The silence that dominated the room was hinging on Peter's every word. As always when his brother spoke, Edmund felt himself holding his breath.

"All we learned was taught to us by wise Narnians. Generals and tutors. Scholars and poets. Ministers and soldiers. But never by kings or queens. We did not know of the state beyond the borders of our lands until recently. No one is at fault, but us." He looked around at the guild patriarchs as well and saw Zoren send him a small smile. "We offer our services now in any way we can." he said and sat back down.

For a few seconds the silence still held the room. _Did he just swear fealty to the nomadic tribe-leaders? _Edmund wondered in surprise. Then low whispers began to simmer. Voices began to blend with each other and soon a din of sound filled the pavilion. Edmund tried to catch as many opinions as he could, but found it frustratingly hard to keep track of even one conversation, let alone all of them.

Then one voice broke through the noise. "If the houses rule in favor of aiding these refugees," Spalo gestured to Romel in a way that made Ed's hairs stand on edge. "Lyuli house and all guilds that fall under its dominion will not follow."

Edmund instantly looked to Zoren to see his reaction. He was staring at his older brother in shock and Edmund got the feeling that many of the houses under Lyuli would go against its wishes this time.

Then a young voice broke the shocked silence. "I am Rillian Zlatari Eshkol," A young, dark-haired man stood straight and calm beside an older man with a proud expression. The youngest of the seven Zlatari brothers. "Patriarch by the grace of Tema Eshkol, my wife, and her father, Horen Eshkol," He gestured to the old man at his side. "At my disposal are fifty men, capable of bearing arms," He looked at Hema and then turned straight to Romel. "You have our allegiance."

Romel sent him a quick nod and Rillian sat back down.

At the front Hema looked at his youngest brother in outrage. He had not yet voiced his intention whether or not to follow Romel to free the captured Irins, and to have his youngest brother stand up and do so before him was beyond shameful. So in an effort to save face he cleared his throat and gathered his wits to speak. "I leave my own opinions of this matter to myself. And to all guilds who serve under me I encourage you to follow your own council." He sent a shallow smile to the people there.

Edmund doubted he even knew how many guilds served under him.

Then with an air of indisputable authority Zoren came to a stand and looked up at his brother, Spalo. The horse-lord was sitting with an arrogant expression on his face. He looked as though he was almost challenging his younger brother to go against him. And in a gloriously proletarian display of words, he _did_. Zoren turned and bowed to Romel. "The Irins have our allegiance."

Edmund allowed a smile to blossom for the first time in days. He felt a familiar burn inside him and stood up just as Zoren sat down. "Whatever you decide," He waited for Romel to turn. "You know where I stand." He and Romel shared a quick smile before Edmund again sat down.

As the moment passed more and more guild leaders professed their allegiance. At the end Edmund thought they had roughly a hundred and fifty soldiers at their disposal. And just as the meeting was about to close, when it seemed there were no more volunteers, Whilamina stood up.

Hema turned to her with an obvious look of admiration whilst Spalo looked almost hesitant. The small woman took a few steps into the room and looked straight at Romel through her black eyes. _"Yo serva a un grupo quel no está aquí en noche. Un grupo quel hacem tiempo optó exilio vezdel progreso. Mi hijo… mi hijo se une asi podia. Aunquel no he abladonor con él desde hacem algunos años se habem de usted, Romel Ethal'Namen, y de las hazañas que ha logrado. Usted y su familia nosh an ayudado muchas veces. Por lo que in este caso creo quelevoy a enviar una carta."_ She turned rigidly back to Spalo and Hema. _"Que seria prodente recordar que todo el mundo sierve a alduien. Reyes includo."_ Without looking she pointed to Peter and Edmund. "_Hombres includo_." She turned around and looked at all the gathered. A look, a certain expression that reminded Edmund of a mother he hardly remembered, slid over her weathered face. "We arre nat sla'eves."

He didn't doubt she thought of them all as her children in one way or another.

Though not understanding anything she had said, the atmosphere in the pavilion was unmistakable. With a look, Edmund and his brother rose out of their seats and left the tent.

Half an hour later the rest of the nomads began flowing out of the pavilion. Outside were dozens of fires with men and women, waiting for the decisions that had been reached inside. The Narnian kings had been beckoned over by Valera, to a fire she shared with Archer and Thale. Peter sat down and waited for Romel to exit while Edmund disappeared to pack what little things he had. Peter knew exactly what he was doing.

In some things Edmund would never excel. He would always be a loner. He would always be the kind of man that was surprised when anyone actually followed him. In war it was different. Soldiers were men and women doing a job. Edmund was very rigid when it came to doing the job one was meant to. But when given a choice, and people still followed him, he always looked surprised. Peter huffed and smiled into the fire.

"Romel," Valera greeted.

The Irin came over and sat down next to her and Peter. "We've got about two hundred men."

"Only two hundred?" Archer growled.

Romel nodded and finally allowed himself to relax. He looked up at Peter. "Where's King Edmund?"

"Probably packing," Peter felt oddly relaxed despite the fact that his little brother was once again preparing for battle, expecting to go alone. He looked up when he realized Romel wanted more of an answer. "He intends to follow you."

"And you?" Archer asked in his gruff voice.

"Arch," Valera slapped him in the chest before she looked at Peter. "We don't expect any more from you, King Peter. You and King Edmund have both done more than enough."

Peter watched her quietly when she returned to her food. Archer was sulking and Romel was staring into the fire, making his eyes seem golden. "You're Narnian." he suddenly said.

The four Irins looked at him.

"You're all Narnian. The others too, the other Irins." Peter looked as though this was a nothing new to him. He was even smiling. "We protect our citizens." His deep statement hung heavily in the air and brooked no argument. He stood up and left the Irins quietly watching him as he went.

He headed in the direction of his soldiers and knights. He found them gathered around a fire, asking questions of Barrow since he was the only one to have been formally introduced to the house leaders. All silenced when their king suddenly arrived. Nex and Bacchus stood and offered nods. "Captain, would you be so kind as to pack up all our belongings?"

Barrow only spent a second looking confused before he nodded and shooed everyone to their feet. It was about ten minutes later Edmund found them. Peter had joined in the packing of everything when Tremble accidentally knocked over someone's sword. By then everyone knew where Peter intended for them to go.

"Peter! What are you doing?" Edmund hollered loud enough for everyone in the entire camp to hear. Their subjects all stopped. Some with endulgent smiles and others with confusion.

Peter was standing with the last of their soldiers, holding a canvas bag while a Dwarf named Tussle stuffed her medicinal supplies into it. What few she had left after the earthquake. "We're heading out."

"To where?" Edmund could see their soldiers strapping armor on out of the corner of his eye.

"To the Air Castle. To get our citizens back." Peter turned and looked his brother squarely in the eye. He could tell Edmund had been expecting them to give up. To head home. He had not expected _this_ at any rate. It gave Peter great joy that he could still surprise his brother sometimes.

Edmund's mouth fell open and his expressive eyes became pools of questions. "I suppose I _should_ let you come," he said goodnaturedly when his brother smirked. "Do you have a plan of attack?" His voice had settled and he suddenly seemed more curious than confrontational.

Peter's smirk blossomed to a smile and he hiked his sack higher. "I'll think of something when we get there." He turned to help Tussle again.

"You're staying with the nomads, right?" Edmund asked, fearful that his brother would run off on his own in the belief that he and a handful of Narnians could storm a castle and concur an army.

Peter refocused on his brother with a smile. "Edmund, I'm staying with _you._"

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Did anyone notice Barrow's last name? :)

As to the Telmarian. I'm not fluent in Spanish at all and all you saw in the chapter was directly translated by google with a few deliberate mucked-up words by me. I don't mean to offend anyone, and I apologize if anyone felt offended.

Telmarine translations:

_"Yo serva a un grupo quel no está aquí estanoche. Un grupo que hacel tiempo optó exilio vezdel progreso. Mi hijo… mi hijo se une asi podia. Aunque no he ablado con él desde hace algunos años se habe de usted, Romel Ethal'Namen, y de las hazañas que ha logrado. Usted y su familia nosh an ayudado muchas veces. Por lo que in este caso creo quelevoy a enviar una carta."_

– "I serve a group that is not here tonight. A group that long ago chose exile instead of progress. My son… My son would join you if he could. Though I have not spoken to him for some years, he knows of you, Romel Ethal'Namen and of the feats you have accomplished. You and your family have helped us many times. So in this instance, I think I'll send him a letter."

_"Que seria prodente recordar que todo el mundo sierve a alduien. Reyes includo."_ – "You would be wise to remember that everyone serves someone. Even kings."

_"Hombres includo."_ – "Even men."

At first I had her little speech written in English, but it seemed too easy so I changed it. What do you think? Should I have left it in English and spare myself the embarrassment of trying to translate, or is it alright as it is?


	19. Chapter 18: The Hunchback's Tale

**Disclaimer:** A tale was written which captured the minds and dreams of an entire generation. Those tales are, sadly, not mine. Everything you recognize either belongs to Lewis of Elektrum.

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the wait. Can you believe it, it slipped my mind :) The part below was written by moi.

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><p><strong>Chapter 18: "The Hunchback's Tale"<strong>

"_What came first? Cause or consequence. Did the cause create the consequence or was the cause in reality the consequence of another cause?_

_I say: There is no end or beginning to a circle. To pass along trouble is to ruin one's own future."_

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><p>The flaring morning waved across the indigo sky like a banner for war. Susan had woken early. She had waited for word from her sister, and wasn't the least bit comforted when she received it. So she had written her brothers the day before, knowing it was very unlikely the messenger could even find them. She was now watching the sunrise with a sense of unease. She clutched the robe tighter to her chest and allowed the red sun to wash away all her worries with its warm rays.<p>

Before sunrise a private messenger had arrived on her windowsill. The coal-black had Crow settled with a polite caw. It wasn't a Talking Bird, but it was still smarter than most. It had waited patiently while Susan removed the note and read it to herself. Lucy's long awaited message. She was in Tashbaan as planned. Susan had read the carefully scripted letter and frowned. All it said was that the Tisroc was asking for reinforcements in the eventuality of war. But the more times she read it the deeper her frown became. Her sister wasn't just saying that the Tisroc was asking for their help. She was saying she was scared. Afraid for her soldiers. Afraid for herself.

Susan's hand had gone to her mouth and she had allowed the letter to fall to the floor. As such she stood while the sun climbed higher in the sky. Her shock transformed to worry. Fear. A deep, infecting disease. Her worry then inspired thoughts. Plans that would need executing if Lucy's fear became reality. She would have to act very soon. Before the day was over.

And thus her mind had spun for almost an hour. Not until Dala entered her room with a _clip-clop_ of hooves was she disturbed. "Good morning, your Majesty."

"Hm," Susan glanced back but didn't turn. The lovely, warm ignorance provided by the sun still lingered despite the interruption.

Dala noticed with a worried frown. "Is everything alright, Queen Susan?"

Finally hearing her name, Susan shook out of her strange trance and looked at the page with a smile. "Yes. Fine."

"Have you heard any word from your sister?" Dala went about straightening the bed.

"Yes," Susan's despondent voice drew the shrewd gaze of the Goat.

"Not good news, I take it?"

She tried to smile in a vain attempt at consoling her subject, but realized very quickly that it didn't work.

"Oh I do so worry for the young queen when she travels alone."

Susan sighed. "As do I," she agreed quietly.

Dala finished in record time. Susan had no idea how she was able to straighten the rather large bed so fast with only her mouth and hooves. "Would you like to take your breakfast in here or on the balcony?" she asked softly.

"The balcony might be nice," Susan glanced once more in the direction of the sun. It still retained traces of its blood-red tendrils and was even warmer than before.

"Would you like us to join you?" Dala asked, sensing her queen's subdued mood.

Susan smiled. "That would be very nice, yes. You can tell me about my day."

Dala nodded and summoned a whole slew of ladies in waiting. Lovely Dryads and Animals. Ladies and girls. Women of every size, shape and color poured onto the balcony until it was stuffed to the brim with gossiping ladies. It was a while since Susan had taken breakfast with anyone but Lucy and her brothers. The change was quite pleasant. It took her mind off the worry and even allowed her to laugh a little.

Dala informed her about the business for the day. Later on she had court, but only one scheduled audience. A red Dwarf from the southern marshes. She didn't know what the audience was about, but they seldom did. After court she had a meeting with the head of the scullion organization. She had only recently learned that such a thing even existed and thought it prudent to meet with the front man if she was to get anything done.

After her first meeting with thirty odd scullions, where everyone had shouted at each other and nothing had been accomplished, she was rather looking forward to a slightly more organized meeting.

So she ate and laughed with her ladies in waiting. After breakfast she dressed and went to a private sitting room where she was told the red Dwarf was already waiting. She saw no need to use the throne room when she was the only sovereign present.

"And in the matter of missing crops, Lady Bludgerbuffin Rednose seeks audience with the queen." Sir Giles expertly announced. He insisted on being proper even though Susan had since then been well informed of the Dwarf's visit and had already agreed to the audience.

"Yes, Sir Giles. Please send the lady in."

"In company of Lady Rednose is the Lady Rufflescuff Rosadottir. Also seeking audience."

Susan looked up from her papers. "I thought there was only one?"

Sir Giles looked pained when a loud ruckus reached them from the hall. "So did we all." He lowered the announcement list when the door to the rather large sitting room opened. Around Susan was a host of wise advisors, stoic guards, and patient scribes. She watched calmly as the first lady, missus Rednose took her spot right in front of the queen. The little lady bowed and waited awkwardly for a second, little lady to enter and bow as well.

"Welcome, good my cousins. What brings you to the royal hall this day?" She leaned back and prepared to deal with whatever minute matter had them both so upset.

"Thank you, Queen Susan." Missus Bludgerbuffin Rednose said.

"Thank you, Queen Susan the Gentle."

Bludgerbuffin sent Rufflescuff a nasty look for trying to out-greet her, but thankfully remained silent. Susan almost smiled. "It appears to me that this case of theft is only relevant to one of you. Might I ask why there are two present here today?"

The Dwarfs looked at each other, a bit bashfully. From his podium Sir Giles smirked. "Well, see here, your Grace-" Bludgerbuffin said rather sheepishly until she was interrupted.

"That dripping Rednose is accusing _my son_ of stealin' her beets!" missus Rosadottir cut in.

"That's because he _is_!" Bludgerbuffin shot back venomously.

"Calm yourselves, Ladies." Susan intervened. She almost got out of her seat, but decided against it and leaned back. It was important for her not to be drawn into the argument. "Mrs. Rednose," the first Dwarf lady looked up. "How can you be sure it was Mrs. Rosadottir's son who stole your beetroots?" She allowed her cold voice to echo hollowly through the room until both ladies looked more than a little ashamed.

"I can't, my Lady." Bludgerbuffin said meekly.

"But you _must_ have some reason to suspect Mrs. Rosadottir?"

The Dwarf lady glanced at her rivaling kinsman and back at Susan. "No, your Majesty."

Susan sighed and turned her cool gaze to the accused. "And _did_ your son steal those beetroots?"

Rufflescuff quickly shook her head. "He couldn't possibly. Her entire field's been ripped up by the roots. There's no way my son could've done all that. Not even with the help of Aslan _Himself_."

Susan frowned slightly. "Your entire field?" she asked Bludgerbuffin. The lady Dwarf nodded her head. "How many achres?"

"Three, your Majesty."

Susan nodded. "See to it that Mrs. Rednose is given enough provisions to account for the crops that were lost," she told a page by her side. The little Raccoon nodded ad dutifully scribbled down everything her queen said. "Also see to it that the Rednoses are given any assistance required to replant their field." she said to the director of farming in and around the Cair.

"Oh thank you, your Majesty!" Bludgerbuffin said exuberantly. "Thank you so much!"

Even Rufflescuff looked a little in awe. "An' if you ever need anythin' don't be bashful." She kindly touched her colleague's shoulder in reassurance and smiled when Bludgerbuffin did as well. It seemed the feud wasn't terrible enough to alienate the two families.

"Mrs. Rednose," Susan said regally. The first Dwarf looked up. "Mrs. Rosadottir." The second did as well. "Would you call this matter resolved?" Both nodded eagerly and Susan returned it calmly. "Very well. Ex Rallion, please seal the orders and come find me if there is any trouble." she told her minister of farming, an Ox, before she addressed her chamberlain. "Sir Giles," The Fox looked up. "Anything else for today?"

"Nothing, my Queen." he said and bowed.

"Very well. I hereby call the council adjourned." Nothing more was needed as she stood and thereby excused her advisors and scribes. The guards followed her out of the room and remained posted on either side of the entrance to the kings' and queens' private quarters. In her room she went to a rose scented bowl and splashed some of the water on her face. It was a warm day. She heard the telltale clip-clop down the hall. "Dala, I haven't seen the twins all day. Do you know where they are?"

As predicted the Goat entered the room, not two seconds later, with a stack of papers in her mouth. She placed them on Susan's desk before she could speak. "I believe they are training with Masters Kanell and Oreius."

"Oh, is Kanell free?" Susan smiled.

"For the afternoon," Dala said happily. "It appears captain Xati's mother is visiting."

Susan smiled and rifled through some of the papers Dala had brought until the rapport from her earlier meeting popped up. "The crop-thief. That was rather strange, wasn't it?"

"Hm?" Dala had been straightening things around the room. "Yes. I only heard about it in passing from Philbin, but it seems very odd indeed. If not a quarrel between rivaling Dwarf families, then who could have taken them?" She continued her search for misplaced items throughout the room while Susan stared at the written account of the complaint.

"I'd like to know, actually. Will you send Oreius with a small party to accompany the ladies when they return? Tell them it's to protect the reimbursed crops."

Dala studied her queen anxiously a second before she nodded and left. Susan had a sneaking suspicion that this minor incident warranted more attention than it appeared. Had her brothers been there they would have laughed at her paranoia.

But nevertheless there was an unshakable feeling that could not be ignored. She cancelled her meeting with the scullions' representative and went to see Oreius and Tarvi instead. "Generals," she greeted when she entered the map-room. The sun was moving over the glass dome and casting a pale, yellow glow.

"My Queen." Oreius greeted gloomily.

Susan entered with an unusual swish of her gowns. She seemed far more demanding than usual. This was a state one did not often see the Gentle Queen in. "I would like you to take a small party with the Dwarfs down to the Southern Marshes."

He tipped his head in the equivalent of asking her why, though he would never outright do such a thing. "I would like you to escort the two farmers and their crops to their homes."

"Do you fear for their safety?"

Susan stared at him a second before she realized what he had asked. "No. I would like you to search the area quietly for any signs of strangers."

Sensing a deeper meaning, Oreius frowned. "Have you received word from your sister?" he asked, suspecting the youngest queen may have come across something on her journey.

"Yes. The Tisroc calls for help, but that can wait." The mere words made her shudder, but there was something more pressing. Something close. "I'm more concerned with a curious case which was brought to me today."

Oreius glanced at his colleague. "While it is wise not to disregard such feelings, my Queen, is it not prudent to aid Queen Lucy?"

"I have written my brothers, but have not heard back yet." She drew a deep breath and looked her wise generals and tutors in the eye. "I realize the importance of Lucy's request." She paused to allow them to ask questions, but neither did. "But I will not send the majority of the army away and leave Cair Paravel unprotected while there might still a threat in Archenland." She paused again, half expecting them to blame her for being selfish. For thinking of herself before her sister. She was almost surprised they didn't. "Until further notice consider yourselves on active duty."

Both generals looked surprised, but neither of them argued.

"I want the patrols around the castle doubled." she told Tarvi. "I want you, Oreius, to travel to the Marshes with the soldiers and ask the people there if they have seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. If any feel threatened you bring them to the Cair, understand?"

He nodded. "Understood, my Queen."

"What of me, Queen Susan?" Tarvi asked.

"Tarvi, I'll need you here. Search out weak spots along the outer walls and fortify them. Contact soldiers on leave and call everybody back." It was not something done lightly since the civil army of Narnia was spread out all across the country. She began pacing through the dancing dust. "Send word to the giants along the southern shore. Tell them that Narnia might very soon need their help." That would give her enough time should her instincts be right.

As she spoke both generals began to realize that the situation was far more serious than either of them had expected. "What of the soldiers posted by Cauldron Pool? Should I call them home as well?" Oreius asked.

"No. But send a messenger. A Gryphon. Alert them to the state of things and tell them to return to the Cair immediately if either of my brothers _do_ send word."

"I have two Falcons assigned to act as messengers between us and the kings should anything go wrong. Also Bluebell is following them as we speak."

Susan nodded. The Sparrow Bluebell was a dear friend of hers. A lovely sir she had chatted with in the garden one afternoon. He had told her then that his deepest wish was to join the royal guard of Cair Paravel. She had granted his wish and tasked Oreius with finding a suitable job for the tiny Bird. The Centaur had wisely assigned Bluebell to watch over the kings whenever they left Cair Paravel without their guards. An occurrence the Centaur vehemently tried to avoid, but which still happened far too often for his liking. To his knowledge Bluebell was still taking his job very seriously.

Especially since the kings seemed to have a knack of getting themselves into trouble. King Edmund was a veritable magnet for danger and his brother, who was supposed to set an example, was little better.

"General?" Susan asked in concern when she saw his frown deepen.

"Nothing, my Queen." The Centaur offered his best attempt at a smile. "If it's not too forward," He hesitated, but met no resistance. "What will you tell King Lune and his sons?"

Her shoulders dropped. She had momentarily forgotten that his sons were presently in her care. "I can't send them home. Not when I can't guarantee the journey south." She was slowly forgetting that none of her subjects had seen any proof her suspicions.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Oreius somewhat bashfully asked. Susan nodded. "Tell the king everything. Tell the twins nothing."

She looked into his eyes and wondered how many times Peter had taken his advice. "Do you advise my brother the same way?" She tried to smile when she said it, but sensed the Centaur felt terribly shameful. "Nomatter." She batted the bad air away. "It's excellent advice. Should the twins find out they would surely want to join the excitement and very possibly get themselves killed." She nodded in dismissal to both generals.

Oreius bowed and turned, but Tarvi lingered. "And should trouble find us?" she asked.

Susan sighed and rubbed her left hand. "Then, Lion willing, we will have enough men to withstand a siege." She looked at her generals as they exited. All three were worried. Susan had never actually had to fight before. She had hunted and was a master with her bow. The sensation of killing another living thing was nothing new to her.

But to face an enemy. A man full of rage and rightful vengeance. That was something she had _not_ done. Something she wasn't sure she _could_ do. At present all she had to cling to was the hope that her intuition was false. That Narnia was safe as was most often the case. That the letter from her sister wasn't as ominous as she thought, and that brothers would arrive tomorrow. That all this paranoia would make for a splendid story later on in their lives.

That was her deepest wish. To be proven wrong.

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><p>On the southern marshes the captain of five hundred horses was scowling. He was eyeing his lumpy soup with distaste. The red-brown substance didn't taste horrible. It was slightly sweet. Probably good for him, but oh how he missed the fat lobsters of Calormen! Seafood in all shapes and sizes. He dipped his spoon and pulled out a glob of maroon porridge. "Beet soup…" he hissed.<p>

His soldiers were eating gleefully. They were rather enjoying the meal since it was the first one any of them had had in days. They weren't equipped for a journey to the north. It was too cold here. Too wet. Too many creatures running around. As it were they were hiding in one of the bordering forests along the mountain rim. Every turn they made was blocked by more of these infernal talking creatures. It was unnatural.

But orders were… to his great dissatisfaction… orders.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> To be continued tomorrow (hopefully).


	20. Chapter 19: Nur Al Din Ali

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait. The passage in italics is directly from 1001 Nights.

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><p><strong>Chapter 19: "Nur Al-Din Ali and the Damsel, Anis Al-Jalis"<strong>

"_When the Wazir saw her she made him marvel with the excess of admiration, so he turned, perfectly pleased, to the broker and asked: 'What is the price of this girl?' whereto the broker answered: 'Her market value stands at ten thousand dinars, but her owner swears that this sum will not cover the cost of the chickens she has eaten, the wine she hath drunken, and the dresses of honor bestowed upon her instructor: For she has learned calligraphy and syntax and etymology; the commentaries of the Koran; the principles of law and religion; the canons of medicine, the calendar and the art of playing on musical instruments.' Then said the Wazir: 'Bring me her master.' So the broker brought him at once and, behold, he was a Persian of whom there was left only what the days had left: For he was a vulture bald and scald, and a wall trembling to its fall. Time had buffeted him with sore smart, yet was he not willing this world to depart."_

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><p>The sun was setting over the rooftops of Tashbaan and the heat was making the water in the air dance. From her window Lucy could see half the city. She had a magnificent north-western view of the Great Desert. She figured it was just another taunt by the Tisroc. That she should be able to see the northern sky that quietly guarded her distant home, but would not even able to leave her room.<p>

It was with sorrow that she admitted the severity of her grim situation. She was a prisoner. Of that there was no doubt. Also the threat of a visit from one of the Tisroc's sons was like a chain slowly squeezing her chest. It was making a fever spike. Fear and anger bubbling to dangerous levels inside her.

And through it all, the thing that pained her the most was the yet untold fate of her soldiers. Had they been killed, were they trapped in one of the other decadent rooms, or were they chained in the dungeons?

All these thoughts passed through her mind in the span of seconds as she looked over the city. But each and every one left her when she heard the door to her room open.

* * *

><p>Lark lay in the quiet awkwardness that always lingered after her meetings, the last one no different. A soldier had visited her room and given her a quick thrust. She was sure he had gotten out of it what he wanted, but for her there was little pleasure to be had. The moaning confessions she had tricked from him during the act had made her forget her place. Worry had taken hold of her mind and now seemed to cast darkness on all her thoughts. By Tash, even the brilliant sky seemed darker since the meeting.<p>

With a weary sigh she rose from her bed and made her way to the small desk. There she wrote a letter to a queen she had never met, to save another she dearly loved. She was acutely aware of the danger she was putting herself in, but felt there was little else to do. Finishing the letter, she sealed it and went to her mother's house. Her mother lived in a small shed not far from the pleasure houses. There she kept a cage of doves. Trained turtledoves that only flew from Tashbaan to Narnia. A gift from a mysterious noblewoman.

As she strapped the small letter to the dove's leg she only prayed that it made it through the empty Tashbaan sky. Her own life seemed of little importance compared to the successful rescue of a queen. As she released the dove into the air she watched until it vanished among the clouds. To her great relief no arrows shot out from the windows. Nothing stopped it as it transformed from a white fluttering mess to a tiny dot on the horizon.

She felt her heart soar in joy that help would come for the young queen she loved so well. She had no idea that eyes were not watching the dove, but the hands that had released it.

**PpPpPpPpPpPpPpP**

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><p>Miles away, under the northern sky that Lucy so dearly missed, a man was watching it with distain. The captain scrunched up his face when tiny raindrops began falling on him and his men. He released his pigeon into the air and watched it fly south. Past the rainclouds and into dry, heaving desert. Oh how he wished he was that pigeon. His second rallied the men and called for march.<p>

They left the valley they had camped in for the past four days. The inhabitants were getting suspicious and the captain had new orders. Jazir had asked him and a couple of his men to seek out the barbarian queen. He knew that was a bigger risk than Jazir had promised. He knew capture or death was very likely. So instead he chose to move his soldiers farther north. Closer to the grand castle on the edge of the sea. The one people called the Marble Temple. Cair Paravel.

If Jazir sent conflicting orders he could always pretend he had never received any. Lies were easy to uphold when vast distances separated commander from soldier.

* * *

><p>Jazir watched a pigeon land on the bird perch next to three falcons and a raven. It fluttered its wings and cooed. Jazir watched the raven with a predatory curiosity. It was uncommon to see birds of prey this far from the mountains or cities. But perhaps it was scavenging. He waved for one of his servants to bring the pigeon to him. A young man brought it with a solid grip by its claws. It was then Jazir noticed the message attached to its leg.<p>

He unrolled it and as he read his face reddened. At the end it was almost purple and the servant had wisely, and quietly, retreated. "The imbecile!" Jazir hissed. His captain was deliberately going against his orders and heading further north. But his anger settled slightly when he reached the part about the captain's intention of occupying Cair Paravel. He knew the army was still home, but had heard rumors that the Valiant queen had been captured by the Tisroc. Also whispers that the kings were missing. With one queen in captivity and two kings away there was only one left to protect the keep. The Gentle Queen Susan. Not a warrior. He smiled a little when the anger with his captain transformed to gleeful vengeance.

Even though the entire royal army was there, they were still only being led by a queen who had no practical battle experience. Victory looked easy just then.

"Mahar!"

The servant returned in a hurry.

"Bring a scribe."

Mahar darted back into the hot sun and fetched a scribe as told. Jazir recited a letter to his captain, saying that he was pleased to hear about the ingenuity of his plans and the initiative he was taking. He also made it a point to mention that he expected his army returned when their task was complete. Not _one_ man short. The very last thing he needed was for this venture to fail and lose a quarter of his army. As he reached his slightly threatening conclusion he took a breath. The scribe was excused and Jazir walked to the edge of his tent.

There he saw Ashay Bilan speaking with one of his soldiers. Ashay was second in command now that the captain had taken to the north. He was every bit as smart as Jazir's son had been. He was tall and valiant. And very best of all, he admired his commander. So much so that he was inclined to believe even the most unfathomable fairytales as long as they came from Jazir's own mouth.

The two caught each other's eyes. Without having to move a muscle Ashay somehow knew his master wished to speak with him. He moved through the ranks like a mist through air. Why Jazir had not made this man his captain from the beginning, he did not know. But perhaps it was for the better this way.

"Al-Jazir," Ashay greeted respectfully as he entered the tent.

Jazir gestured for the young man to take a seat and did so himself as well. "I have something to discuss with you."

Ashay nodded, already riveted.

"It is true you are an orphan, yes?"

Ashay nodded again, a little less secure this time.

"You were forced into the Tisroc's army as a slave when you were only fourteen, correct?"

"Yes. They said I was blessed by Tash for surviving past my seventeenth year as a soldier." His big eyes inspired a profound sense of devotion in the old man.

"And you were given men to command as one of the youngest since Prince Rabadash."

"An honor that was bestowed upon me by Bismillah Ezo when he was still only Supreme General."

"Ahh yes, the Minister. A noble enemy," Jazir looked up from his private thoughts. "How old are you now, Ashay?"

"I am twenty this day, Al-Jazir."

"Still a boy, then." When Ashay frowned, Jazir smiled to placate him. "I mean no disrespect. Only that you are still in need of guidance occasionally."

To this Ashay nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"Good. I am in need of someone to lead. I am a teacher with no student." He spread his hands and took on a mock-sad frown that made Ashay smile. "If you will let me, I should like to adopt you. Make you _my_ son." Jazir clapped his chest proudly and sat back. He was pleased to see the shock on Ashay's face.

"You are already as a father to me. It would be an honor," His voice had softened to a whisper that let Jazir know the man was still in awe.

"Very well. So be it." He stood up with a quick slap on his thighs. "I will announce it tonight and all will celebrate."

Ashay stood as well, beaming. He drew a deep breath when Jazir moved over and embraced him like a son.

As he pulled back from the embrace he placed his hands on either side of Ashay's face and looked deep into his trusting eyes. "The humility you feel in this moment will be nothing compared to the pride you will feel when you are leading a thousand men into battle."

The two looked each other deep in the eye. As Jazir smiled, so did Ashay, though both did it for very different reasons.

**PpPpPpPpPpPpP**

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><p>The door to her chamber opened and she saw a peak of two, heavily armed guards outside as her visitor entered. It was not a stranger as she had considered, but a man she knew very well. "Rabadash." Her voice held no fear as she addressed him. After seeing him cower before Aslan, after being transformed into a Donkey, she had little respect left for him.<p>

"Queen Lucy. You've grown."

Though she had long since thought of Rabadash without fear there was still a whisper. She controlled her shiver at the sound of his voice. It was greedy almost. "As have you," she said softly, scanning his face for subtle signs of aging. There were few. Crowfeet around the eyes, callouses on the hands, slight sun damage on his nose and cheekbones.

"And so perceptive you have become. I remember meeting you in battle," He pointed and ventured further into the room. "The queen shouting war and expecting her subjects to follow." Obviously her performance then hadn't scared him as much as she had hoped. But then again that had been one of the first real battles she had attended. "I remember the skinny girl who somehow commanded the respect of an entire legion. Who lit up the field like a torch." He sounded almost in awe.

"And I remember a young man who could've been king had he only listened to someone else's advice."

He sneered and stormed forward with his hands on her shoulders. With the momentum he slammed her back into the wall and pinned her there. She was almost as tall as him. "Were you even remotely as beautiful as your sister I would have taken you as my wife. You would have spent your life waiting on me hand and foot."

Despite his invading closeness Lucy didn't feel as much fear as she did anger. "And had you been even the slightest bit smarter I might actually have said yes," she hissed.

His open fist shot across her face. The slap echoed through the room along with a little surprised yelp from Lucy.

"How dare you-"

"You will do well to remember that prisoners of war have no rights. Even if they _are_ queens."

"My brothers will kill you for this." She pulled back and covered the aching cheek with a hand whilst Rabadash stood before her, heaving deep breaths.

"Not if I kill them first." he hissed and released her abruptly. "And to think I came here to help you." He backed into the middle of the room, still sneering at her.

She watched him from the corner until he was out the door. When it closed the shock began to lift and she started drawing deep breaths. Her eyes whetted and her breathing became sobs. She closed her fists and slammed them against the wall. She could feel the confines of her room shrinking in about her. Making her pant.

This was an outrage! She felt like an animal. Trapped and subjected to the whims of her belligerent masters. She slammed the wall behind her again. She started pacing the room until she went to the window on a whim. It was very high above the ground, but directly below it was a slanting roof that led to an even lower roof. The fall would definitely cause damage, but her cordial- Her hand went to her side when she remembered that the potion had been left at home. She hadn't wanted to bring it to Tashbaan for the Tisroc to ogle. She had left Father Christmas' dagger as well or they would surely have taken it. They had seized the ones she had fought with, but hadn't found the one she kept up her thigh. And only because the guards hadn't dared to impose upon her honor in such a way.

She walked back to the door and leaned her ear against the teak surface. If felt smooth against her chin. She listened to the sounds from outside. At first there was nothing, but then she caught the very faint sound of someone shuffling their feet. The guards. She huffed and pushed back from the door. Had she been a little braver she would have picked the locks and attacked them. Her hand went to her hip where she usually kept a tiny set of lock picks. Had she still _had_ her lock pick. She sighed and went back to a spot behind the bed. One that hid her from view.

She didn't doubt that her brothers would kill the entire royal family for what they had done. She just wasn't sure if either of them would realize she was missing until it was too late. Her only hope was that Ash, the Pigeon, had not been killed before he delivered the message to Lark. That she had gotten word to the north somehow. That she was even still alive.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you enjoyed. It's getting deeper into it. I thought I edited it before posting, but re-reading revealed that I was indeed wrong. If there are any more mistakes I apologize and hope they don't interfere with the reading too much.


	21. Chapter 20: King of Swords

**Disclaimer: **Several things don't belong to me: The most notable is the story I'm currently writing. I guess it belongs to Lewis? In any case I'm not making any money off it, nor is it written with any kind of endorsement from Sir Lewis . Also, Dame Utha isn't mine either. She belongs to Electrum. :)

**Another few things before we continue:** The text in italics is an original of mine. Not very good, but deserves acknowledgement since it took so bloody long to write. I made a horrible, horrible mistake in the very first chapter. The date and year this story is set in needs to be set back ten years. Oops. It doesn't affect anything for you guys really. They're all still the same age. Eddy is still barely on his way to escape his teens. Peter is still bossy, Susan is very mature, and Lucy is still Valiant. SO SORRY! The mistake has been rectified. I'm a little disturbed that none of the reviewers noticed. Does that simply mean you're sleeping in class or that you're so wrapped up in the story that you forget all else? Hope it's the latter. In any case I bid you fair-reading. Oh and for the record it's alright to get annoyed with Romel in this chapter. I certainly hated him a little somewhere around the middle there. (And: YES it IS a Peter+Edmund dose and a large one at that). Someone asked for it. Enjoy. NOW you can go.

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><p><strong>Chapter 20: "King of Swords"<strong>

"_He was a fair and patient man. On his perch he watched the proceedings with an air of calm. To him the lost and neglected could come. With him they could rest and know he would treat them all equally. _

_Then one morning there was a call for arms. An air of unease around the men. The king looked over the land and saw to his horror that his men had shed their fear. Their faces, like his, had lost the touch of innocence. The one thing that still anchored them to humanity._

_For what no one knew about the king was the hatred he had for himself. How much he longed to not see. For once to be blinded by anger or fury. For once to damn his honor and act on passion. What no one saw was his sorrow."_

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><p>The journey to the Air Castle took little less than a day. Even traveling with a group of two hundred men the journey was surprisingly short. It didn't come as a surprise to Romel that the nomads all knew where to find the Telmarines. Nor that they feared being found themselves. Spying was their speciality. Moving without being seen or heard. Paranoia came easily to them for some reason.<p>

Most of the nomads evacuated their old campsite in favor of a new location, farther away from the castle. Hidden from the Telmarines.

Romel looked in wonder at all the soldiers that had joined them during the night. He hadn't expected help at all. Had even felt surprised when Edmund rose from his seat during the meeting. Could it be possible that the Irins would have a home to return to? He thought of the families that had been in their village during the attack. Only a handful was with them. All intended to accompany the soldiers and nomads the castle. Help in any way they could. Romel expected many would choose _not_ to join the fight.

Edmund had found his way up to Romel about an hour after they set off towards the Air Castle. The boy was a mystery to him. Not many things confounded the Irin any longer, but this boy did for some reason. When he looked at him he saw a young man. Serious. One who ought to smile more, Romel privately thought. The thought brought a smile to his own face.

Edmund instantly caught it and took the good mood as a sign from Aslan. "May I ask you something?" Romel saw him shift his gaze to his brother. King Peter was riding on one of Zoren's many stallions a few yards in front of them.

To his question Romel simply nodded.

"Are the guilds only consistent of family members?" If the dark haired king knew his question surprised Romel he never showed it. Instead those brown eyes drilled into the commander like there was nothing but the two of them in the entire world.

Romel only had enough sense to answer because of Archer's discrete bump into his back. "Yes…" He looked in the direction the king had also looked. Next to the king the guild patriarch Rillian was riding. A young man. Only about Peter's age. "Yes. They're either related by blood or marriage."

"Even the houses? I noticed how many people were wearing the stallion around their necks like Zoren and Spalo. I assume only those of the house bloodlines are allowed to wear the house sigil?"

"Yeah," Romel was getting deeper into the conversation. Waking up fully from his daydreams. "All blood relatives from all three houses wear the medallions. Doesn't matter if they're man or woman as long as their father's the patriarch."

"So Zoren's children have no claim to the patriarch title of the Lyuli house?" Edmund asked intrigued.

"No. Only to the Rudari guild." Romel could never understand why a king would care so much. Kings were _supposed_ to be open and welcoming of all peoples. Never in eight hundred years had he met one that was actually as he should be. He looked up. And it wasn't just King Edmund. It was his brother too. They both possessed a curiosity unlike any king he had ever seen. He forced himself to focus on the question he had just been asked, when he realized his own line of thinking. The boy was asking insightful questions and Romel was continuously giving him yes or no answers. "You might actually witness something remarkable despite the short time you've known the nomads." He smiled slightly at the curiosity that widened Edmund's eyes. "Zoren's oldest son is betrothed to Hema Zlatari's oldest daughter."

"I thought the houses passed from oldest son to oldest son?"

"Yes, and so the logical conclusion would be that Hema hasn't _got_ any sons." Archer mocked from behind them.

Romel's ire bubbled at the tone he kept taking with Edmund. If he wasn't more careful one of the kings would eventually run out of patience and punish him for being too outspoken. Though he liked to think Edmund understood the Irins better than his brother they were still taking a gamble trusting either of them. "That means," he said, trying to draw attention away from the rowdy Galmanian. "…that means the rightful heir of the Rudari guild suddenly becomes leader of the wealthiest house. Zoren has a couple of sons to take over the guild, but for Hema to accept the son of a lesser patriarch means a change these people haven't seen for centuries."

"Surely there must've been other times when a house leader only had girls? Or not children at all? Why not just make a daughter matriarch?"

Edmund's questions were confusing and random. The Irin looked down in thought to connect the leaps in the boy's thinking. "Because women don't have any rights." Romel tried to remember when he first heard of the guilds. They had only been around for a few hundred years. "They're set in roles that they no longer remember." Romel's eyes sought forward to the red banner that declared Hema Zlatari's house.

"Men protect their herds?"

When Romel looked at him he noticed Edmund had quirked a brow. That one suggestion was enough for the Irin to crack a bitter smile as well. "They're still young. Gotta lot to learn."

Edmund's smirk traveled in front of them again and he nodded. Then with a deep breath he leaned over to speak again. "So… Zoren's son...?"

"Estal."

"…_Estal_, loses his last name and takes Hema's daughter's-"

"Amelia."

"…Amelia's." Edmund glanced down in thought. "Estal Rudari becomes Estal Zlatari, and so the wealthiest nomad alive. Pushing Hema out of power and Zoren closer to it."

"Precisely." Romel nodded. His eyes again sought out Hema's house colors. The house leader wasn't there himself, but all patriarchs below him had to carry his colors.

"That will make him more powerful than his brother."

"Who?" Romel frowned.

"Zoren. Matching his son with Hema's girl makes Zoren more influential than Spalo." It looked like a vision had revealed itself to Edmund. To the Just King it felt exactly as if that was the case. Zoren was mush easier to deal with. Spalo was unpredictable. "That might actually be the sneakiest thing I've ever heard." His grin betrayed the supposed outrage he should have felt.

"Estal was set to inherit the Rudari name after his mother, but Hema approached Zoren about a union." Romel's granite stare was focused on the spot in front of his mount's ears. "Zoren would never do something like that."

Edmund retreated a little when Romel's voice made it evident he was accusing him of being hypocritical. He swallowed and focused on the inbetween between his own horse's ears. The calm he had possessed earlier, the weariness, was leaving. In its place he felt restless. Frustrated.

"The code out here is 'respect your elders'." Valera interrupted as she caught up to them. She guided her horse to Edmund's other side, and though closest to the king her eyes drifted to Romel's. "And respect men."

Edmund still looked wildly curious, though meek, and Romel hoped it meant he was gaining a greater appreciation for how things were done here. To his surprising regret the conversation died not long after. He wanted to ask Edmund questions of his own. He was curious. How was the Cair run these days? Did Edmund or his siblings know the history of their home? He still felt as though he could teach the young sovereigns a thing or two.

He followed the young man with his eyes as Edmund spurred his brown stallion forward. Towards his brother. Romel looked at the two of them and wondered if all their hopes and beliefs made them stronger or just insane? His thoughts again returned to Aslan. The Lion had allowed the Irins to suffer for centuries only to die violent deaths one after the other. Stell had been stabbed by two men he had cheated out of money. The rest were either crushed to death somewhere in the wilderness or eaten by ogres.

Could it really be that the King of Kings allowed such atrocities to happen? Romel doubted he could put faith in anyone who had the power to act out against evil, but chose not to. Passivity was the mother of all darkness as far as he was concerned. It was why he liked Edmund, he realized. The boy was impatient. He hated the time it took him to think, but did it anyway. Peter was much the same. Quick to act. Romel guessed he often rationalized his actions after he committed them. Romel _didn't_ know that both kings had been taught to do just so by their tutor. To act bravely and never lose their bearings.

The Irin noticed the conversation between the brothers dispite not trying to. It drifted easily to those around them and made most wonder how they could be so relaxed. "…the possibility of fortifications alone makes it a task worth doing."

"You _can't_ storm in like you do usually." The elder brother sighed tiredly. "This isn't like playing chess against Dame Utha."

Edmund scoffed. "This is _exactly_ like playing chess against Dame Utha."

Peter growled and pushed a six feet high fern out of the way. Romel looked around. They grew like weeds here. He guessed the castle was somewhere in the valley, but up against the cliffs. That's what he would've done.

"We still need a second point of entry if we're to have any hope at getting to the prisoners before the Telmarines realize what we're doing and just slit their throats."

"Peter…"

"That's what will happen, Edmund." His voice softened, but it didn't lessen the sting of the comment.

"Do you realize this is the first time we actually get to see that castle?" Edmund muttered.

Peter hummed and sat back. Romel knew he shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but also knew every single soldier or nomad around was doing the exact same thing.

"I can't help but feel grateful Lucy never made it that far." the dark king said to himself.

"Not for lack of trying on their part." Peter growled.

Romel's ears perked. So the Narnian sovereigns _did_ have some kind of history with the elusive Telmarines. Something involving the Valiant Queen. "He was most likely acting alone, you _do_ realize?" Edmund cautiously asked.

"I don't care." Peter glanced at his brother. "They keep taking people and expecting to get away with it. I bet most of the disappearances around here are because of _them_ and not the ogres." The high king's back was straight as an arrow. "This time they took the wrong ones."

Romel ducked his eyes when Edmund for some reason glanced back. He noticed Valera doing the same by his side. Deciding not to listen in, he turned to her with a question in mind. "Is it true that Whillam Luri sent word this morning?"

Valera nodded. "He's supposedly on his way with three hundred men at arms." She looked back at the kings as she had a moment ago. "But he won't make it. There's a storm in the north. And until he does we're only two hundred against a castle full."

Romel tried to peak through the pines, but saw nothing but slightly greyish skies. "How do you know about the storm?" His voice brightened to one almost reminiscent of a young boy.

Valera smiled. "My knee is hurting."

He scoffed at the old joke when Archer let out a great bark. It had been several lifetimes since she had claimed she could feel approaching storms by the intensity of pain in her knees. Romel doubted she'd had any knee injuries in this life. Hoped she wouldn't sustain any. But the joke still made him smile.

He looked up at the kings with renewed hope. Perhaps this could be Edmund's trial run? To see what kind of a man he was in war. Romel couldn't actually remember ever seeing him fight. He remembered the beating he had given Harrol. Or how he easily he had killed the goons with his bare hands. But swordfights. Planned battles. Conduct becoming of a king. That was the real test.

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><p>Vala and a scout for the nomads returned that evening with word. The castle was less than an hour's ride away. Peter stopped their rather large group and assigned men to form a semicircle around the building. Its back was against a mountain which made for excellent cover for the Telmarines but also gave them only one way out. He split the men up in five groups with Keefang, Barrow, Bacchus and Nex in charge of one each. He took point of the last one and kept Vala by his side as a spy.<p>

When the sun set in the west and turned the forest from green to blue, he had his first moment of doubt. The walls were high and well protected. Three guards stationed every ten feet. That meant they had at least three times that many inside the walls. Edmund proposed involving the trapped Irins in the fight by sending someone in to free them. It would divide the Telmarines, but he felt the need to point out that the prisoners might not be in any state to fight. Peter also knew who his brother planned on sending in behind the walls.

"Why not?" Edmund hissed. No fires were lit in order to keep the element of surprise. Every human, Animal or Creature was crouched low against the ground. Hiding among the tall ferns.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face to release some of the numbness. "Because I don't want you in there _alone_."

"Romel, Archer, Valera and Thale will be with me. I'll probably be safer with them than out here." the younger brother argued. He could feel the four Irins watching them from a distance. Even in the darkness. He shot a quick glance back just in time to see the whites of Romel's eyes disappear. "And besides I don't think they'll _wait_ for you."

"I'd like to know exactly what relation those people have to our friends." Peter growled and shot his own look towards the four soldiers.

"Children. Siblings. Parents. Some even have grandchildren from past lives." Edmund pleaded. It hadn't slipped his attention that Peter called them 'our friends'. "Would _you_ wait?" A small smile blossomed.

Peter stopped and looked at his brother. Had it been Edmund or either of his sisters behind those walls, being held captive, he would have done absolutely anything to get them back. "You said you had an entrance?"

Edmund almost grinned, but was decent enough to reel it in at the last moment. "Vala found a tunnel."

Peter groaned. "Why is it always a tunnel?"

"One that leads to the western side of the castle. She says the latch on the other end is rusted through. One strike with Archer's axe should shatter it."

It was the first time in a while Peter had seen his brother so excited, and he didn't want to think what he would do if he wasn't allowed to follow his friends. His damn substitute family. He almost cursed, but felt shameful when he again took in Edmund's hopeful expression. "I can't spare anyone. It'll just be you five."

"It will be enough." the youngest king said with conviction. Silently praying with his eyes for his brother to trust him.

With a sigh Peter did just that. "Go," Edmund almost ran. "But _be_ careful! I don't want to have to tell Susan that I let you run off and get caught."

Edmund smirked as he backed away. Peter watched him tap Romel's shoulder and saw the Irins disappear into the night. As they went he had a sudden shiver of insecurity. He would have to move fast once his brother was safely inside. Vala would follow them and report back when they were safely inside. Choosing to focus on anything but his rogue brother, he turned to Zoren and nodded. "All men to positions."

The patriarch returned the nod and vanished as well. It had begun.

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><p>Romel led his three friends and Edmund through the tunnel. At the end he stepped aside and allowed Archer to take out the locks. As promised all it took was one swing from his axe. Archer, Valera and Thale passed Romel before he caught a quick glance of Edmund. His eyes looked lighter than usual. The king looked at him a moment before he followed their friends. Inside the room there was darkness. It seemed they had entered the castle from the cellar. They were in the food storage, if the salted hams and boxed potatoes were anything to go by.<p>

They snuck through the gloomy cellar until they reached the kitchens. Out there it was quiet as well. A few girls were kneading the beginnings of bread, but the room was poorly lit and elongated. A smell of flour hung in the air. The five intruders snuck out easily. "So where would one keep prisoners in a place like this?" Edmund asked in a whisper.

It was Archer who answered. "We found _you_ in the dungeons." He shrugged when Romel glared. "Wha'?"

"You might wanna remember he's king." he growled.

"Not tonight." Edmund countered and snuck around them.

As he did Romel couldn't stop staring at the back of his head. It did indeed appear as if Edmund considered himself their equal. Two years ago the thought would have made him scoff. How dared a boy think that of himself? Now he realized it was almost opposite. He wondered why a king would lower himself to the level of his subjects.

As all those thoughts buzzed through his mind he belatedly noticed the glare the reached them from behind a door. A second hall that was well lit. Romel noticed a second too late for Edmund that there were guards as well. He jerked Archer back before he had a chance to follow and get caught. Edmund froze the second the guards yelled. His back was turned to the four Irins in the shadows as he slowly raised his hands.

"Drop the sword."

His Centaur-made beauty. It clattered to the floor.

"Turn around!" They were hastily making their way towards him.

He turned and made eye contact with Romel. His twin swords were still hanging on his back and his hands were hovering at shoulder height. He smoothly waved the Irins further back, asking them to wait while he drew the guards closer.

"Don't move!" one of the guards shouted. He sounded as if his nervousness increased as his distance to Edmund lessened.

"Is it alright if I breathe?" the dark-haired boy mouthed off as they drew their weapons and stepped closer. They had their backs to the darkened hallway in which the Irins hid. Only when Edmund flicked his wrist in the universal signal to advance did the two guards realize their mistake.

Romel wondered if they recognized the sign or just felt a presence at their backs suddenly. In any case it was too late. Romel slipped out of the darkness and stabbed one guard through the back. Valera smoothly loosened an arrow. Even after having seen the Irins in action several times Edmund still looked surprised when Romel again turned to him. He lowered the bloodied sword and tried to smile. "Well done," he clapped his shoulder as he passed.

"Yeah… Don't do it again." Archer growled. Had Romel not known better he would have mistaken his tone for annoyance.

He helped stow the guards away and then took point. Edmund lifted the keys and passed them. The door they had been guarding had to be pushed open. Inside they found a group of almost twenty people. Every single one of them looked up when the door opened with squints. No light but what streamed in through the doorway. Even that must have been like staring into the sun for them. Several torches brought in by Edmund and Valera, lit the dingy walls. Romel heard the king sink convulsively at the smell. It was enough to make even the Irin's eyes water.

Edmund's next words surprised him. "Are they all related to you?"

Romel had walked over and released an old woman from her chains. He knew her well. "Not just to me."

The woman looked at Edmund. Though she looked haggard there was an air of kindness about her. "I was once married to an Irin named Onno, dear." She looked at Romel with hopeful eyes that so desperately countered his own sorrowful ones. "Is he _here_?"

Romel glanced back quickly. "Hale is dead,"

At her crestfallen expression it dawned on Edmund that these weren't just family members from _this_ lifetime. They were family members from previous lives as well. "Oh. But he'll be back right?" Her blissful smile returned as if she hadn't heard a word.

Romel saddened further. "No, Santi, we talked about this, remember?" He kept his voice low as to not scare her. She had been forgetful for years. Hale had always been so patient. He had explained to his wife of a previous life that he wouldn't be coming back once he died. This was the last years they would have together. It hadn't seemed a terrible loss since Santi was old and near death already. But now, looking at her heartbreaking expression Romel felt all too acutely the premature death of his close friend.

He turned to look at the others that Valera, Archer and Thale were freeing. Edmund was standing frozen in the middle of the room. Some prisoners were barely adults, but most were older. Grandparents, parents and a few children. Brothers and sisters. All of them somehow connected to the Irins. He noticed a young boy, barely three years old, looking around the gloomy dungeon with tears filling his wide eyes.

Before Romel could move Edmund had. His breath left him at the stricken look on the king's face. "It's alright." he whispered.

The boy looked at him a moment before he stretched out his chubby arms and reached for a hug. The young king pulled the boy close to him and hiked him into his arms as he stood. When he turned he caught Romel's eyes. "Shh, it will be alright. I'll get you out of here." he whispered to the boy who was clinging to him like a monkey. With his suddenly black eyes on Romel he stepped to the door and into the torchlight. There was an unfamiliar softness about him. Something almost childlike and protective.

"You should give him to Ali," Romel called when the last prisoner was released. Edmund turned and he pointed to a young girl who was huddled close to two, older people. "She'll take good care of him." He didn't know how he felt about Edmund carrying one of their own.

The king looked down at the boy who was staring up at him in a most idolizing way that almost broke his heart. The young girl walked over and held out her hands. The boy, instantly recognizing her, reached out. As he made to pass him along Romel saw a flash of agony skate over Edmund's face. "I won't forget you, alright?" he whispered when the boy suddenly changed his mind and reached back for Edmund.

It surprised Romel, this protective nature he suddenly witnessed. When Edmund joined the others in the hall he leaned in and asked the Irin who the boy belonged to. Romel stared at the king a second. "No one. He's one of us." The broad-backed Irin took off down the hall with Edmund staring at him as he went.

Together the group intended to make their way out of the castle, through the tunnel. Romel had no mind to take the prisoners into the chaos of battle if he could help it. He only hoped King Peter had been able to move the fighting from the forest to the castle courtyard. When they reached the tunnel entrance he paused when Edmund did, seemingly to let the prisoners out before them. Romel noticed something in his eyes and narrowed his suspiciously. Valera and Archer stopped as well, though both were unsure as to why. The only one who was sent on was Thale. "Go ahead." Romel called. "We'll be out soon." The young man nodded and disappeared into the dark.

"What are you thinking?" Valera asked quietly.

Romel half shook his head without taking his eyes from Edmund. "You tell me?"

The king was about to answer when something stopped him. His eyes blanked out and his head tilted towards the dungeons. "My brother's attacking." he mumbled. He looked up at the stone ceiling.

"How do you know?" Romel asked.

Edmund looked at him with an expression the leader of the Irins had never before seen in the young man. "Because he's my _brother_." He faced the hall that led deeper into the castle. "I have to help him."

"Then let's _go_." Archer urged and headed into the escape tunnel, but none of them followed. "Before the bloody ceiling falls on our heads?" The Irins kept staring at Edmund who was staring in the direction they had just come. Into the castle. _Away_ from the tunnel.

"Ed?"

"I can't." he whispered. He turned back to Romel. "They took my people and hurt them." Something ravenously hungry slipped into Edmund's voice though his eyes still had their youthful look from before. "They're not getting away with that."

Romel saw what was happening in the young man and inched closer. He put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. "King Edmund, the best way to help your brother is to join him outside the wall." He knew what hatred tasted like. There was nothing better in the world than undiluted anger. The metallic taste of blood in the mouth. The feeling of being invincible.

"No," Like a predator growling, his entire body tensed and he slipped out of Romel's hold. "No." Then with a flinch he was off. He sprinted down the halls and barely acknowledged that the Irins followed. He ran around a corner and Romel put on a burst to keep up. They found him in a grand, empty room. He could hear men shouting outside. See fire through the matted glass windows. The footsteps behind him hadn't robbed Edmund of his focus. Romel didn't like what he saw. He didn't quite trust the boy to act in their best interest at that moment.

With his shoulders set he stalked over to the door and slid it open. It groaned a little as its hinges strained, but didn't draw attention. Romel stepped out behind Edmund and drew his weapons slowly. Men were arming the walls, taking bombardments of fiery rocks. A specialty Peter had adopted from the Black Dwarves.

Most Dwarves were miners and knew every rock in the ground. They knew which stones were the heaviest, which stones could take the most pressure, and even which ones were flammable. Only a few places could one find such stones, and only in the Western Wild. Here the foundations were harder. Natural gasses had been trapped and pressed so hard they had turned, first to liquid, then to stone.

Peter had learned how to mine them. How to _use_ them.

The chaos that met the four friends made them all pause their advance. Edmund watched flaming boulders soar over the walls and had no doubt that his brother had thought of some ingenious way to hurl them into the air. "Catapults." he said with a feral smile. "He made catapults."

Romel looked at him in shock. For the voice that spoke those words was nothing like the voice he had come to know. "Seems unwise to be _behind_ enemy lines then." Archer bit out, but didn't move from their sides.

Edmund just smiled wider and much more aggressively. "Only if you don't know what they're aiming for." He raised a hand and pointed. "My brother is targeting the wall instead of the castle because he knows we're inside." His smile turned to a surprised chuckle. "He's coming for us." While this revelation only brought Edmund peace, the others felt nothing of it.

In fact the three of them were quite scared for their young friend. They had never seen him this way. Didn't know he had it in him. "Where do we go then?" Romel asked worriedly as another boulder crashed against a far wall and exploded into tiny, burning shards.

"We stay here." Edmund growled and backed up, pushing his three friends back as well.

As he said it the leader of the Telmarines, who was trying to avoid the flaming boulders hitting his walls, turned and saw the four intruders. He raised his sword and bellowed out in fury. "Enemies! The wall has been breached!" A whole host of Telmarine soldiers turned as one and suddenly noticed Edmund and the three Irins for themselves.

With war cries they climbed down from the walls and charged. Edmund drew both his swords and took a stance Celer had drilled into him. One foot in front of the other, perfectly balanced. "Nobody move! Let them come to us!"

The Irins obeyed and drew their own weapons. Romel would have guessed a great many things about this night and would have been right. What he couldn't have foreseen was the change that came over Edmund. He transformed into something else. A different king, because there was never really a time when he hadn't been one. But he seemed to reveal more layers with every new day. The change left Romel feeling unsure. Old fears began pulling at him once again. A need to run. To hide from his king as he once had.

Then suddenly, like a wave, all his thoughts were washed away as the enemy struck. The heavily armed soldiers ran full throttle into the four with the fury of men possessed. Without feeling Edmund began swinging his swords. Cutting through their defenses with the ease of a well-trained soldier. One by one they were cut down by either himself or one of the other three. But neither of them moved. They held their position though firebombs began falling further and further into the courtyard.

"He knows what he's doing!" Edmund yelled when he saw Archer flinch back and make a half turn to run. The large Galmanian froze and turned back to the fight with a growl. Just then Edmund realized why Romel trusted him so much. Though abrasive, though hostile, he was a true friend. Concerned for those he cared about. Loyal only to his own sense of justice. Angry. Edmund recognized most of those qualities either in himself or in one of his siblings. And just like that he stopped seeing Archer like a stranger and started seeing him like a friend.

Romel noticed with distain that several Telmarines were slipping past them. Into the castle. Trying to hide from the bombardments. He was having doubts whether or not to follow.

Then a great boom shook the very air they breathed, and Edmund was proven right. The wall in front of them began quivering. Several Telmarines were dead at their feet and most were now running past them for the safety of their castle walls. Edmund kept his swords out and waited for the telltale sign that they had won. When the wall crumbled he was reminded of the earthquake that took many of his friends from him. He stiffened and waited for the tremors to settle.

The rumble was replaced with the roar of an army of horses bursting into the courtyard with Peter leading them. Edmund spotted Zoren and Rillian with the first wave of men and felt immensely proud. To his brother he raised his sword and called out. "_NARNIA!_"

Peter, drunk on victory, raised his own and called back. "_For Narnia_!" When their cries settled everyone noticed that the only Telmarines who had survived had hid inside the castle. Peter trotted to his brother's side and dismounted. "The Irins?"

"We sent them out. They should be safe." he panted. The fire had returned to his eyes. His smile as well.

Peter saw and smiled back. "The women and children?"

Edmund knew to whom he was referring. It was law in Narnia that any enemy who surrendered was treated as a prisoner of war. Tried before a council, and the kings and queens themselves. "I saw no one but the soldiers. The women must have fled before we came."

"Or they're hiding somewhere inside." Peter said, nodding. He clapped his brother's shoulder as a gesture for him to follow. Together they stepped up to the closed door and faced it with their makeshift army behind them. "If anyone inside wishes to surrender, let them do so now." His clear voice carried easily through the night.

Edmund had no doubt they could hear him inside. And yet no one answered. Peter glanced at his brother. Ed shrugged. "Keep trying."

Behind the kings Romel and his two soldiers were watching carefully. Thale joined them, slightly winded and turned to watch Peter as his friends. Though accustomed to war and killing, they had only seen the old wars. Glorious as they were there was no longer any place for undisputed victories. There was always diplomacy involved. _That_ and mercy were tools of the new age. Tools the Irins didn't necessarily possess. Edmund realized then that he might have something to offer them after all.

With a quick smirk he stepped forward with his swords lowered. "I am King Edmund the Just," His voice hung in the night. The only other sound was the crackling of torches. "Surrender to us and you will not be harmed. You have my word." It echoed over the high walls and through the cracked windows.

It had taken almost five years, but Edmund had learned that his word carried weight in almost all situations. Perhaps even more than the word of his siblings. He was the Judge. The Just. The one any man or woman could come to for righteous treatment. It was a reputation he had sacrificed a lot to earn. One he intended to not only keep, but honor. No matter the trials he had to go through along the way.

A few tense seconds passed until the door opened a crack. Silence and darkness hid behind the massive gate and unsettled the Narnians more than it soothed them. There was no response. "If you do not reply it will be seen as a refusal and we _will_ enter." But for every situation where diplomacy was expected there was also a line. One both kings had crossed. If a direct answer was not given it was seen as a rejection of the offer. Diplomacy was over, now came the ultimatums. He glanced at his brother and nodded. Edmund raised his swords and moved forward while Peter signaled his soldiers.

In this situation Peter realized they were at a disadvantage. The nomads had no idea what the signal meant. Only the few Narnians with them understood their meaning. As such only the Narnians advanced through the lines. The nomads and Irins nervously handled their weapons. Edmund leaned against one side of the gate and pushed the other open with his sword. With a glance back at Peter he entered.

Romel flinched forward. "Edmu-"

Peter held up a hand to silence the rest of Romel's argument and moved into position to follow his brother when he gave the word. It came only seconds later.

"_It's clear_."

Peter entered with his soldiers right behind him and rest behind _them_. The main hall that Edmund had passed was massive. High ceilings and one, large, cracked window. But it was empty. "Where could they have gone?"

"Possibly out the same way we came in." Edmund mused. He kept his swords at the ready. "We should search it." He looked back at his brother.

Peter nodded. "We split up in teams of ten. Barrow-"

"They stay with you." Edmund interrupted and looked back at his brother again. "Romel and the others come with me." He pointed to Romel who nodded.

Peter spent a few moments in doubt while Romel called out for backup. "Zoren, you're with us." It seemed the decision had been made _for_ him as Edmund made his way deeper into the castle without any of his royal guards. It wasn't that Peter didn't trust the Irins' skills, but their own soldiers knew their kings better. Knew Edmund better.

"Don't let him wander off." he shouted to Romel.

The Irin looked back and nodded before following his king. But Edmund was fast. He had already rounded the first corner without backup. Romel, Valera, Archer, Zoren and a few of his men were already falling behind. After a few tense seconds Romel found the young king in a room. A private quarter. Blood red velvet curtains framed the window and a large post-bed that was placed in the center.

"Looks like a woman's room." Romel commented as he and the other two looked around. Zoren and his men had moved past the room and were searching further down the hall.

Edmund took a deep breath before he turned. "It doesn't matter. As far as I can see the castle is divided into two wings. My brother is searching the other one. We should continue."

"What are we looking for?" Archer asked, fingering the curtains.

"Any sign of life."

"And what do we do if we find it?" Valera asked.

"You keep them there. _Unharmed_." His dark eyes masked his age for one second. For just a moment they seemed to belong to someone twice his age.

Romel didn't know it then, but that was the first time he saw the real Edmund Pevensie.

Without a word the king turned and left the room. He hadn't liked what Valera had insinuated. They were not murderers. He and his brother followed the rules of engagement. He half ran down a hall and turned a corner for privacy when he suddenly began panting. Lauviah's face flashed before his mind's eye. A memory of the last time he had seen her smile. It hit him again that she was gone. That Arthur and Hale were gone. With one swipe of someone's weapon, loose soil and tumbling rocks, they had just ceased to exist. Ripped apart in the forest. Crushed to death. Tears welled up and joined his rapid breathing. He heard some of Zoren's men talking down the hall and dove into a room. He didn't even look to see if it was empty. That would be his undoing.

"Hello, King Edmund." a feminine voice greeted.

He whirled around and came face to face with Nimwey. "What are _you_ doing here?" All the hairs on his arms stood up and his fingers tightened around the twin swords on instinct.

"I was waiting for Romel." She glanced at the door.

"It was you," he hissed. "_You_ sold the Irins to the Telmarines."

She began circling him and he followed. "It's what they deserved." she answered in a low voice. "They did the same to me many years ago." Her face contorted in a quick sneer. "Traded my life for theirs."

"How?" He didn't believe her, but something warned him about getting into an open fight with her. She would win.

"They left me on the field of battle after the witch cursed us. I died there while they fled." Her voice was no longer that of a human. She sounded more like the wolf she had once been. "I've been searching for them far longer than you can understand." She kept dancing around him and he kept evading her. "Then one lifetime I found them. I did to _them_ what they had done to _me_."

"You betrayed them." he whispered.

"I _hate_ them!" she hissed.

"And everyone they love?"

She smiled and raised her own sword. It was a slender thing. More like a scimitar than a broadsword. "You should've run." They had almost come full circle and traded places. She was closer to the door. Edmund almost by the window.

He felt a shiver of fear race through him as he stared into her eyes. She intended to kill him regardless of her own safety. He knew his men were just down the hall, but wondered how long it would take them to hear. How long it would take them to come.

With a burst of motion she lunged.

"CONTACT!" he yelled.

Her sword thrust out and he parried with a wild swing to the left. But she didn't stop. Instead she instantly lunged again and nicked his arm. Her movements were so fluent it was almost impossible for him to predict when she would lunge. Again and again her sword caught his skin. Once on the arm, twice in his side. She thrust out again and cut his chin. He was panting, and she looked as though she was barely out of breath.

She smiled and attacked. Her sword slid right past his half missing ear. Had it not already been gone he would've lost it. Had his head been an inch further to the right she would've taken the top of his head off. Instead of following her swing through to regain balance, and pushing the blade away, she somehow turned directions and swung at his chest. The tip ripped through his armor and into his skin, leaving a painful groove.

The one second he spent in shock she used to surge forward with the intent to kill him. Just as her sword was about to rip into his stomach the door behind them opened. A mighty roar and a stab of pain deep inside him before he sagged to the floor. He looked down and saw a patch of blood working its way through his shirt and armor. Right around the spleen if he was to guess. Possibly lower. It didn't matter. They were out of Lucy's cordial. He would be dead before they reached the Cair. He was certain of it.

He looked up dazedly to see swords clashing against each other. Nimwey was fighting Romel. One was fast, but the other was strong. She came at him and cut into him, but he looked like he hardly felt it. The next second he had his sword up and was sawing through her throat. More yells mixed with her gurgling. Archer and Valera entered the room. Archer stopped in shock when he saw Romel killing Nimwey. Valera instantly ran to check Edmund.

Her expression was carefully neutral and that was how he knew it was bad. "Get his brother." she yelled to someone in the hall. Zoren entered the room and sat next to him along with Valera. Romel was standing over Nimwey's corpse. Archer beside him. "She w-was too fast." Edmund moaned. It hurt to breathe.

A yell down the hall and stomping footsteps. He smiled when his brother entered the room. Peter's eyes were full of worry. He kneeled in front of his brother with a shell shocked expression. Edmund guessed he looked quite the sight. He smiled again.

And in a second Peter's concern changed. "You let him run off alone!" he barked at Romel.

The Irin made to argue, but was cut off when Peter next made a split decision.

"Zoren. I need your fastest horse." The nomad looked from one king to the other before he rose. Peter never looked away from his brother. "You _will_ not die today." Peter said. He said it with such conviction that Edmund didn't dare argue. "Not today." Very carefully he reached down and picked his brother up like an infant.

He saw Valera grab his swords as he felt himself be carried out of the dark castle. "Did you f-find the others?"

"No." Peter was stomping outside to where Zoren was hanging onto a black, bucking stallion. His own Edmund knew.

"You'll never make it b-back." he whispered. Death didn't scare him, but his brother's sorrow did. His sisters' tears.

Peter and Romel helped him into the saddle before his brother swung into it as well. "Yes we will." With a swift kick they were off. Several others ran for their own horses and galloped after the kings, the Narnian soldiers closest behind. Edmund heard Zoren call for a mount. Did they intent to race back to the Cair in one group? He didn't doubt his brother would ride straight through whatever stood between him and Edmund's salvation. They were only about three days away from home, but that still seemed like too long to hold on. And over the mountain pass they wouldn't be able to ride. With a sigh Edmund sagged in his brother's arms.

But still. Riding through the deep forests with his best friend. He couldn't think of a better way to die.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> It's a long one since I didn't update for a few days. Sorry about that. Also any mistakes you found are mine and never be afraid to let me know :)


	22. Chapter 21: The Tale of Ghanim Bin Ayub

**Disclaimer: **Lewis owns, I borrow. The passage in italics is from 1001 Nights, and the title of this chapter is also the title of that story.

**Author's Note: **Well things in our neck of the woods are definitely getting more interesting. The late summer storms are rolling in and opened with three days of thunder and heavy rain falls. They appear to be escalating now that the national weather service has warned everyone that hurricane Irene is rolling in as well.

And to the Cretin: I pronounce Romel with a heavy o. Kinda like if I had spelled it with two m's, or how you pronounce Romulan. Heavy on the o.

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><p><strong>Chapter 21: "The Tale of Ghanim Bin Ayub"<strong>

"_It hath reached me, O auspicious king, that in times of yore and in years and ages long gone before there lived in Damascus a merchant among merchants. The merchant's son was like the moon on the night of fullness with a speech so sweet. This is the tale of how Ghanim Bin Ayub, the Distraught, came to fall in love only to lose it all."_

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><p>Every occupant of the castle was awoken by Oreius' commanding voice, booming through the half empty halls. As Susan looked out a window she saw several creatures gathering inside the Cair's massive main courtyard with torches. Oreius at the very front. She heard him order someone to "fetch the queen" and saw a Cheetah sprint inside the castle.<p>

Meeting him halfway Susan hurried down to the annex where Oreius was waiting with fifteen of his soldiers. All of whom had obviously rushed back from the Southern Marshes. "What happened?" she asked in concern.

"We were attacked. We returned to find the village burned to the ground."

Susan only now noticed several crying men and women. Dwarves mostly. Farmers entirely. Innocent people. "You look like you rushed back with enemy on your heels."

"Calormenes, my Queen." His entire demeanor darkened. His massive body tensed as every muscle coiled. His hands clenched and his jaw muscles bounced. "But not the Tisroc's men."

Susan only had a second to feel shocked. This was what she had feared, only not _who_ she had feared. But it didn't matter. They could investigate the origins of this army later. At that moment she could only breathe a sigh of relief that she had followed her instincts and made preparations. "Did you reach the giants?"

"No, sadly."

She nodded and took a look around the hall. "Sir Giles?" she called over the gathered. The Fox jumped out of a group of Pigs with Dala right behind him. "Get all these people sorted away. They all need places to sleep tonight." The chamberlain nodded and took off in a run, barking orders to everyone from Panicus to the scullions. Susan turned back to Oreius. "Did they follow you?"

"They march as we speak."

She nodded. "So this means they intend to besiege the Cair?"

"I fear so, my Queen."

She nodded again. "I want you to join me in the map-room immediately." She glanced around to locate her second general. "Get Tarvi as well and every captain you can scrounge up. I want all officers in the room with us."

"Certainly, your Majesty." He turned and instantly began calling out orders while Susan hurried to her room to dress. She was still in her night gown and if the enemy was about to fall upon her home she wouldn't have them think her surprised. While in her room she fetched her bow and quiver, and her horn. In the map-room waited Oreius and Tarvi with several of their captains. Kanell and Xati were both there since they lived in the Cair. Celer was there, even the twins were there, waiting impatiently. And one Susan _didn't_ recognize.

"Who is this?" she looked at a shy Coyote that was tucked away in the corner.

"This is Tanis." Oreius answered. The Coyote meekly bowed. "No one knows that castle better than he."

Susan nodded and tried to look like she belonged there, but found it next to impossible. She stepped further into the room and hesitated right before she reached the center table. There she placed a delicate hand on the maps. "Thank you for coming." She looked up. "I've asked you all here for one very simple reason. My brothers were unable to be here. My sister as well. For if either of them were I _wouldn't_ be." She glanced at general Oreius to see his sympathetic expression. "We are on the threshold of a war." Some of the captains looked surprised. Most looked disheartened.

"How many come, your Grace?" Xati asked.

"Two hundred. I've sent a Gryphon to meet my brothers at Cauldron Pool and give word about our situation." Some of the captains nodded in approval. "Whatever happens we not only have to survive, but we must not let them trap us here." She looked every Creature and Animal in the eye. "My sister is trapped in Tashbaan, unable to return home, and I fear the situation may even exceed my suspicions." She took a deep breath. Several let out surprised gasps. Susan glanced down quickly. "Now. Have any of you anything to say?"

At first everyone was very quiet. They looked at each other and their queen, almost waiting for something to break the tension. Then Tarvi calmly stepped forward in the regal way that came so natural to the Great Cats. "I have an archer on every vantage point in the castle." She sat down. "And I summoned as many soldiers as I could before Oreius returned. I am confident we can hold them off."

Oreius stepped forward as well. "Your royal guard is waiting in the courtyard and around the castle on any point the Telmarines may try to penetrate. They will attack on your command."

Susan nodded.

Then the Coyote slinked forward with its head held low. "There is something you should know, your Majesty." Everyone looked at the small creature. Susan didn't really know him. Only from what little her brother had told. "A secret tunnel leads out of the Cair."

"How do you know this?" she asked.

"Before your arrivals, when it was still winter, I lived here. I was the only one and I hid from the witch,"

Susan's eyes softened. Edmund had been adamant when they first took their thrones that Tanis be allowed to stay. That he be given a room as so many other subjects. Susan never knew why until now.

"One day I got lost in the castle, in the dungeon, and I came across a hidden exit."

"Is it still open?"

The coyote looked up at Oreius when the Centaur spoke. "Yes."

The general looked back at his queen. He and Susan held each other's gaze for a few seconds and looked almost as though they were having an entire conversation. Then with tears in her eyes Queen Susan cleared her throat and mumbled: "Not yet, general." With that she turned and vacated the room.

It took the massive Centaur a few moments to regain his wits. "To your posts." he ordered somberly as he followed the queen out. He caught her halfway down the hall. Two guards, stationed at the stairs looked up when the Oreius and Susan exited. "My Queen?"

She stopped and looked at him.

"You may want to consider evacuation."

His gentle voice made her shiver slightly. "I'll tell Giles to start evacuating those who were injured in the attack." She turned and started walking again.

"I mean-"

"I know what you mean!" She whirled back. "I know what you mean, but I refuse to leave them. Not when there's a very _real_ chance that we may win." The tears that had previously filled her eyes now dripped over the edge. "I _will_ not leave my people."

Oreius looked sad, but had a minute change of heart when he saw the queen's bow, strapped to her back. "I'll tell the men to prepare."

Susan drew a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. "Thank you." she whispered and allowed her general to leave.

An hour, maybe two later, found the queen staring into the night. Surrounded by her most loyal soldiers. The night was cold. A sharp wind was ripping at their bare faces. The moon was almost full and the sky clear. A shiver down her spine told her that the Telmarines were probably watching them. An Eagle soared over the surrounding forest and returned with word. The Telmarines had arrived with far more stealth than any of them had thought capable. They had not only arrived, but appeared to have made camp just outside the tree line.

Susan sighed when the Eagle delivered the message and looked over the dark fields. She would have preferred them to attack first. She glanced at Oreius. "Do you think it will hit them from here?"

He nodded gravely. They all knew the cost of what they were about to do.

She sighed again, this time for courage, and gave the signal to fire. Hemp rope creaked as it was wound tighter around itself. Wood groaned under the pressure. A handle ticked every time a hook hit the latches. The hands that turned it paused after every tick to test the silence. Their attack relied on the Telmarines being unaware. Finally, with a dull thump the handle reached its limit. Eager hands waited for word from their queen to release the splint that held the contraption tense.

The twins watched anxiously from a few feet away as Susan nodded to Oreius, who in turn nodded to the Narnians holding the handle. With a _thwomp_ something gave and wood moved. Massive weights shifted and a ball of fire came to life in the darkness. Then with a whooshing through the air, the ball of fire soared up and away. Towards the trees where it hit with a massive crackle of giant oaks splintering.

Susan watched with baited breath and hoped the dryads had all made it to safety. "Let's hope this works." she whispered into the night air.

Behind her Tarvi and Oreius shared a knowledgeable stare.

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><p>Lucy watched as the entire city of Tashbaan was transformed into an army. The sun had almost set and a red glow was igniting the western horizon. Jazir was being very smart. He was sparing the life of every citizen in return for their allegiance. He didn't care if they joined in his fight or not, as long as they didn't stand in his way. He was setting fire to the streets and not the houses.<p>

Lucy could see groups of people gathering. Jazir's speakers, no doubt trying to convince the mob that Tash himself wanted the nobility removed. That the Tisroc deserved to die. That his palace needed to be ripped apart. From the cheers she heard she guessed the mob was agreeing with the speakers.

A shiver raced over her body and she folded her arms around her torso. With so many people on his side there would be nothing short of Aslan Himself that could stop the army. They would tear through the palace and destroy everything in their path.

Her highest hope was to see the blazing standards she knew so well, crest the horizon and reclaim their queen. That golden lion on a red backdrop was what she envisioned her rescue to be. Her brothers taking her away. Back to her home. But what she feared the very most was that they would all arrive too late. That they would fall upon a city that had been ravished by invading hordes. That instead of a sister they would find a corpse.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Another one for you. Susan's instincts are proving horribly precise, aren't they? But even she won't be able to predict the outcome of this. I made sure that only Jazir and myself know what will happen at the peak of this story. *Grins evilly*


	23. Chapter 22: Five of Coins

**Disclaimer:** I dreamt last night that my apartment burned down and my work with it. It made me sad until I remembered that the majority of my stuff is on loan from C. S. Lewis. Just borrowing the Narnians, but I will return the secon I'm done.

**Author's Note:** The passage in italics was written by myself, though it shouldn't come as a surprise to any of you :) It's inspired by a fairy tale (I'm not sure whether it's Danish or not) about a little girl who freezes to death on Christmas Eve. The Little Girl With the Matches, it's called. Any of you know it?

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: "Five of Coins"<strong>

"'_Quick, quick, little feet. Pitter patter and get the snack. One little mouse must be quick to get the cheese in the trap. Little taps suggest intruders, but quick, quick, quick they walk'. Thus Alice hummed to herself in the bitter wind of the lonely winter's eve. She had only one match left and tried to strike it against the rough church wall. Earlier she had begged for asylum, but had received none. The priests had all but thrown her out. But as she sat in the bitterly cold snow a light came to life. Her little match lit and a wonderful glow spread all around her. Before her very eyes a tree emerged out of the night. Full of bells and whistles. Ribbons in all colors, and oh, on each branch a dainty candle lit up the night._

_Alice laughed in joy and clapped her hands. Suddenly a warm living room came into being all around her. The plush couch in which she sat was occupied by a man and a woman. Lovely and fair to look at. She smiled as they kissed her cold cheeks and told her to rest. Alice happily did as they asked and lay down in the warm couch. Her smile never fading._

_The last she saw before she closed her eyes was that wonderful tree."_

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><p>His heart was pounding in his chest. The prevalent sensation was the weight of his brother's lax body, barely staying on the galloping horse, against his. The night stretched out around him and all he heard were the cries and encouragements of other men, pushing their mounts forward. Creatures and Animals, calling to each other to step carefully. The path was tricky. Had he been more cautious he would have worried. As it was he only felt the terror, driving him forward.<p>

There was only a handful left. The rest had returned to find the rest of the nomads. Only Zoren, a few of his men, Rillian, the Irins and the Narnians had stayed with the two kings. Already they had almost traveled half way back to the Cair. At this rate they would soon reach the mountain pass that divided Narnia from Telmar. Through the pounding of hooves on rock Peter heard his brother's shallow breaths. Each one he feared would be the last, but he couldn't afford to slow down.

"Company, hold!" he cried. He yanked the reins of Zoren's stallion and made the horse scream in reluctance. Hoof beats of others announced that the others had arrived, but the path in front of them rose too steeply for horses to traverse it. He rolled out of the saddle and gently pulled his brother down with him.

Behind him Romel and Zoren was dismounting and approaching him. Their eyes held the same concern Peter's did as they stared down at a pale Edmund. "How do you plan to get him over the pass?" Romel asked.

Peter groaned and began looked around the area. He spotted his four knights and the last members of his guard. "We need a stretcher. Something we can carry while still using our hands to climb."

Barrow gave a short nod before he was off. "I need sticks and as many pieces of canvas as you can find!" he barked. "I don't care if you have to rip the clothes off your backs to do it!"

Peter gently tapped his brother's cheek and shivered when there was no response. "No, Edmund. Don't do this." he whispered on the brink of panic. He looked up to find Romel alarmingly close to them. "He needs the cordial _now_."

"Where is it? Who has it?" Romel looked like even this brief moment of inactivity was killing him. Valera was helping tie sheets of cloth together while Archer was helping gather sticks. Peter knew they were all wasting time.

"My sister. Lucy. She'll be in the Cair." He looked up at the grey rim as it met with the inky sky. "We need to get him there-"

"Your Majesty!"

It was a voice Peter failed to recognize. A second later all heard large wings flapping as a Falcon landed on a rock right by Edmund's shivering form. "Who are you?"

"A courier for Queen Susan," the Falcon said while breathlessly looking between Peter and Edmund. "My cousin went to warn the guards by Cauldron Pool. There should be a Gryphon there. She'll be here shortly."

Peter's expression lit up. "Is your cousin getting him?"

"_Her_, Harash is a sister to Sully, Sire." It nodded quickly. "And yes."

For the first time in days Peter smiled. Romel looked uncomprehending, but Peter was all too happy to explain. "She can fly my brother straight to Cair Paravel," He looked at the Falcon. "When she returns send your cousin to alert Queen Lucy that King Edmund needs her cordial."

At this the Falcon looked horrorstricken though no one noticed. "But Queen Lucy is in Calormen."

At his voice Peter's relief plummeted. "What?" His heart seized and his fingers became cold. "Wh- Why?" He glanced at Romel who's expression suddenly mirrored his own. "Are you sure?" was his only feeble attempt at comprehending the facts given by the courier.

"Positive, Sire." The Bird sounded heartbroken as it confirmed the news and sealed his king's fate. "Harash brought the news herself."

"Then what?" Romel almost barked. He refused to sit by and watch Edmund teeter on the edge of death again.

"Regardless we need to get him home. The Cair has the best healers in the country and they can at least prolong his survival." Peter hardly dared to look down. "He'll die if he stays here." His thoughts all settled as a new target was established. "When will Harash be here?"

As if to answer they heard a cry that made their hides ripple and hairs stand on edge. Flit the Falcon answered with another high-pitched cry. The large Gryphon soared down through the clouds until her strong legs began pushing through the closely cropped pine trees. Several of them bent under her sudden weight and groaned menacingly. "Down here!" Peter screamed.

She landed with a few breathtaking wing strokes that reminded everyone present just how strong she was. Peter only shielded his face for an instant before he faced his soldier. "Harash, why is Queen Lucy not at the Cair?"

The Gryphon, who had only just regained her feet, glanced at the men around her in surprise before she answered. "Calormen is at war, your Majesty. The Tisroc called Narnia for aid."

Peter let out something close to a bark. He pounded the soil beside Edmund. "Why didn't Queen Susan inform me of this?"

"Because she is battling her _own_ army, Sire." Harash answered.

"_What_!" Peter's yell left no doubt that he was furious.

"The rebel forces of Jazir Tarkaan have divided. Some of them are attacking Cair Paravel. The Queen is fighting them off as we speak."

With two, deep breaths Peter allowed all the information to sink in. "Take my brother to the Cair, _now_. And send one of the Falcon cousins ahead of you. Warn my sister that you're coming and that we follow. Tell her to hold them off for as long as she can."

The Gryphon nodded before it gently hopped over in the slightly awkward way of grounded Birds until it was perched above Edmund. He still hadn't moved or made any sound at all besides his breathing. Her razor-sharp claws folded under his body with the utmost care, and left little doubt as to who trained her. Cyn had taken to personally training the new Gryphons that joined the army. He insisted they all learn to pick up drinking glasses without shattering them. Peter knew it was because the royals had more than once needed a lift in the thick of things.

With two strokes her hindlegs pushed off the ground and she began her precarious ascent. With pines blocking her every way there was no way to go but up. So she rose into the night with only shifting air as a sign she was there. Peter sat back and watched his brother as he rose into the cold sky. Not until Harash cleared the trees did he look back down.

He caught Barrow's eyes first. "Your Majesty won't need the stretcher?"

"To hell with the stretcher." Peter turned to _run_ across the mountain pass when a sound of foreboding echoed through the forest. He had never felt fear around animals. Only one species could make still him shiver to this day. Through the icy darkness they all heard a lone call from a wolf. Barrow and Keefang twitched their ears with small whimpers before both lowered their stances. Vicious growls began resonating along with the last echoes of the howl.

Peter looked at his captain and saw him sniff the air. Keefang as well was sniffing the air for any scents the rest weren't privy to. "Captain?"

"Wolves."

"More than one?"

"Definitely."

Peter took a deep breath before he looked at Romel and a similar drive lit up both men's eyes. "We need to hurry." They were up and running up the steep cliff wall before the next howl sounded. Zoren called his men to him. Rillian was right beside them as they traversed the first stretch of the mountain. Peter sent Vala, Petros and Tremble ahead to scout the path. Barrow, Keefang and Nex brought up the rear.

With his heart pounding in his chest Peter stopped at the tip of the path before it delved into Narnian country and looked back. Darkness governed the entire western sky and only the sporadic light of Stars broke the black chill. "Your Majesty, the trail tapers off. Phillip and Cillo are waiting!" Petros shouted back at his king.

With a glance at his men and the nomads Peter left the Western Wild behind.

* * *

><p>Several miles, deep in the unfamiliar forest, a gathering was taking place. "She's a <em>spy<em>!" a hoarse voice hissed. The predator circled its hostage, as another held her under its large paw.

"Under the laws of Narnia I am permitted to speak!" her little voice left no doubt that she was inferior in size. And yet her courage was greater than any in those around her. "Let me _go_, you flee-infested mongrel!"

The Wolf that held her growled and bared its incisors only inches from her face.

Spavia Glora, the tiny Shrew scout, shrunk deep into the ground in fear, but refused to be silenced by deserters. "By order of the King of Narnia I call you to answer for your crimes."

Some of the Wolves laughed. Others growled. "I say we kill her now and be done with it." one of the older ones threatened.

Spavia wriggled under her captor's paws for escape, or at least to show she wasn't afraid of death. "Why not join us?" she asked them, in honest confusion. "Show the sovereigns that you don't intend to harm anyone and they _will_ forgive you!"

"What would a little thing like you know of that?" her captors growled.

"I am the most trusted scout for the High King!" She remembered all her talks with Barrow and Beth. The wolves admired force. They respected alpha personalities which was why so many of their brethren were drawn to the high king. The two Wolves in the royals' service had been close before Beth died in the earthquake. As she had been. It was only with the greatest reluctance that Spavia had even given up trying to find her way back to the others after she was separated from them. "I have just as much combat training as everybody else," she hissed in her best imitation of her mother, before she bit into the paw that was incapacitating her.

Her tiny claws dug into the fur as she dragged herself onto the Wolf's shoulders and then onto its head. It panicked and tried to dislodge her, but she bit it and made it yelp. "Sit still or I bite out your eye, furball!" she threatened. The Wolf instantly cowered as she hissed at its looming brothers and sisters. "Stay back!" Oh yes, Spavia knew what Wolves were like. They respected force. Power. Only the wisest ones knew that real power lay in authority, and only one that she knew of believed the most valuable thing in the world was fairness.

"Perhaps the little one has a point?" one of the females groused. They were all flanking her hostage. It was a young Wolf that had held her. He was grey like most of his brothers. Probably not even a hunter. The Omega most likely, judging from his size.

"Would you have us take orders from another king?" the largest in the pack barked. He was the leader if his battle-scars were anything to go by. "We followed _one_ sovereign once and look where that got us!"

"None of you have to fear the kings and queens!" Spavia challenged in her shrill voice. "They protect their subjects. They govern wisely."

"Jadis didn't govern at all," one of them mumbled and whimpered when the Alpha growled at it.

"We don't trust _any_ queens or kings."

Spavia's inherent sense of nobility almost made her argue with the Alpha, but just in time she stopped herself when a better suggestion popped into her head. "One of the kings is a lot like you." she said and pointed to the Alpha. "He doesn't trust anyone he doesn't know either. But at least _he_ has the decency to get to know them before he judges them."

The Alpha huffed, but she could tell he was interested.

"You know him as the Traitor."

Low growls and yelps flared through the group until the Alpha barked for silence. "We heard the traitor died."

She didn't doubt some of them had met him while in the White Witch's keep. She wondered fleetingly if any of them had had a hand in tormenting him as well. "His sister healed him." she uttered in a small voice.

"So he was forgiven?" the Alpha asked curiously. His voice was still more like an angry growl, but Spavia imagined that was how he always sounded.

"By Aslan Himself."

A low murmur rippled through the pack.

She looked down at the young Wolf she was currently threatening. One of his ears was still in her tiny paw while her other hovered dangerously over an eye. "If I let you go, do you promise not to eat me?" His brown eyes looked up at her, in a manner usually only seen in puppies, before he whimpered. She released his ear and straightened to sit regally atop his head. "My name is Spavia Glora and I work for the kings and queens. I have safe passage. If you follow me I can guarantee that you will be heard before the four thrones."

Again a low murmur hummed through the group. The Alpha was alarmingly quiet until he looked at her fully. "If anyone from my pack dies I will take the payment out in your flesh. Or the sovereigns'."

His growl made her skin knobby and she could do little but nod and swallow. "Speak with the kings. Explain your situation and they _will_ have mercy." She was trembling and it seemed as if the young Wolf, whose head she was perched upon, noticed. It whimpered too low for any, but she and it, to hear.

"Lead the way, little one." The Alpha stepped back to allow the younger Wolf to go before him.

Spavia leaned down and whispered in its ear. "Head east till you reach the mountains."

The Wolf nodded. "I'll protect you, Miss Spavia. Don't worry." He set off in a light gallop. She had forgotten how easily Wolves and Dogs moved. "My name is Dust."

She hugged the fur on top of his head and secretly smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Dust."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Not sure if I mention earlier that Spavia is even IN this story, or if any of you remember her from the first one? She had a very small part which she played so beautifully that I thought she should have a second chance. :) In any case, her name is scrawled over all my notes along with reminders that I had to plot her back in the story and give her an important role. So now she's in charge of enlisting the feral Wolves of the wild. How's that for a surprise? *looks around and see no one is surprised* Darn...


	24. Chapter 23: The Birds, the Beasts

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my fridge.

**Author's Note:** So sorry for the wait. I'm cooling down after three (not one, but THREE) days of drinking. *puffs* it was very hard and not something I plan on doing every again. God...I'm getting old. With that in mind, enjoy. Oh and the passage below is from 1001 Nights, from the chapter with the same title as my chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter 23: "The Birds, the Beasts and the Carpenter"<strong>

"_So they alighted there and ate of its fruits and drank of its waters. But whilst they were thus engaged, lo! up came to them a duck in a state of extreme terror, and stayed not faring forwards till she reached the tree whereon were perched the two peafowl, when she seemed reassured in mind. The peacock doubted not but that she had some rare story; so he asked her of her case and the cause of her concern, whereto she answered, 'I am sick for sorrow, and my horror of the son of Adam: So beware, and again I say beware of the sons of Adam!'"_

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><p>Edmund was so cold. He was shivering. He peeled his eyes open and saw nothing but faux feathers. The claws holding him did so with extreme caution and it was then he realized there was only one explanation for his state of being. He craned his neck to look down and was both horrified and thrilled by the sight that met him. Below, far far below, he could see the blue ground racing by on only what light the moon had to offer. "Who carries me?" he cried up to the Gryphon, for it could be nothing else that was carrying him.<p>

"It is I, Sire. Harash, sister of Sully." The great Bird sounded winded as if she were making great haste.

Edmund rejoiced in the sound of the friendly voice though he still wasn't sure why exactly he was flying high above the ground. "Where are you taking me?" he called up.

The Gryphon dipped and swerved, but Edmund hardly felt it. "Home, my King." Her voice sounded gentle. Sad almost.

"Where is my brother?" He didn't realize his voice was only the shadow of a whisper and that the only reason Harash even heard was because of her more feline traits.

"Following us on foot."

Edmund smiled and allowed his head to fall back. It was a long time since he had needed a Gryphon transport. He suspected his state was rather precarious. And then he suddenly remembered the series of events that no doubt had led to this current situation. Nimwey beating him in their fight. Romel killing her. Peter telling him not to die. "My brother gave me an order…" he breathed out.

"Come again, Sire?" Harash was beginning to sound taxed. When her king didn't answer real panic leapt into her. Her wings began pushing them furiously forward in the hopes that she would soon see the towering walls of Cair Paravel.

Not fifteen minutes later her wish was granted. They had then been in the air for almost three hours if the Moon's race across the heavens was anything to go by. A faint glow spread through the night and gave her a heading. She delved below the clouds and almost froze in horror when the sigh of Cair Paravel reached her. Its walls were on fire as was the fields around it. The Gryphons were all flying water from a nearby river and dropping it over the fires.

Completely forgetting herself Harash screamed and began shooting down, only too late remembering that she was carrying a weight that made her usual maneuvers impossible. As she tried to veer off her trajectory she felt one of her joints dislocating. She screamed, this time in pain, and realized that she would now not make it inside the walls.

Only nine feet, seven inches and two centimeters above ground she curled into a ball and rolled to her back. Her error could very well mean the end of the king and in that moment she felt such shame that she almost prayed the collision would kill her. They hit the ground, Edmund cocooned in her wings and claws, in a great explosion of soil and tuft. She felt several ribs crack and screamed as she proceeded to slide to the very base of the outer wall. The soldiers that had been attacking Cair Paravel all drew back at her landing, fearing the demons of the castle were attacking them.

She was on her back when voices reached her. Familiar voices. "_Harash_!" her brother screamed.

"Stay there, soldier!" Oreius' strong voice ordered.

With the last strength of her wings, she unfolded them to reveal the king. He was breathing very shallow and she feared he didn't have long. "Edmund!" The queen's scream was unmistakable.

"Stop the rebels!" Oreius suddenly yelled. "_ARCHERS_!"

She could already see ropes being lowered when suddenly an agonizing pain shot through her side and a blaze lit up right beside her. It was a second before she realized that _she_ was the one in a blaze. Fire leapt up her right side as flames easily consumed her oily feathers.

"_EDMUND_!"

The queen's voice was like physical torture to poor Harash. Even as she herself was on fire. Not long after she felt hands reaching for the king as she tried to lay still. The fire was crackling through her feathered suit faster than she had ever expected. The king was removed and she felt someone pull something heavy over her. Then hands began beating her burning back and screamed in pain and tried to move.

"Cyn, get down there!" Oreius roared.

Her mentor and captain was suddenly beside her, ordering her to lay still.

"Keep the rebels back!" Oreius was barking. Soldiers were firing arrows left and right. Hands raised her from the ground as Cyn took flight with a fearsome shriek. She felt herself being carried, but was only aware of entering the Cair before her mind slipped away. The silence behind the walls seemed almost unnatural seeing as a raging battle was still taking place just outside.

With a final exhale Harash allowed herself to slip into oblivion, the smell of her own burning flesh in her nostrils.

* * *

><p>"Get him inside!" Oreius yelled at the Faun and Satyr, carrying King Edmund.<p>

"How bad is he?" Susan called as she was running from the walls to follow her brother. Her bow in hand. She had been manning the walls as well.

"Neither one will survive without the cordial."

Susan's heart stopped before she remembered her and Lucy's last conversation. "I have it." The Centaur looked at her in surprise. "My sister didn't dare take it with her in case we needed it here." Susan's joy sparked and she almost jumped. "I have it in my room." She was about to run, when her general waved over a large Dog.

"Where?"

"In my desk. The top drawer in the center."

The Dog was off before she could complete the sentence. "Go to your brother, Queen Susan." Oreius watched her go before he went over to the young Gryphon only a few feet inside the gates. She was shaking and barely alive. Sully, her brother, was perched above her with concern bright in his eyes.

"Talk to her. Keep her alive." Oreius advised him. He looked up and around the large yard. The fires along the northern wall had been put out and archers were holding off the forces, even thinning them out if fortune was on their side. He saw the Dog arrive into the yard, panting and approached the queen. "How bad is he?"

"Very," Susan glanced up and over at Harash. "But not as bad as her."

Without hesitation the general waved the Dog over to him and took the cordial. He very gingerly tipped a drop into the Gryphon's beak and hurried over to the king and queen. There he handed the bottle to Susan. "What were his injuries?" he asked after Susan had just tipped the cordial into Edmund's mouth and they saw his breathing even out.

"A wound to the stomach, as far as I can tell. That looks like it's the worst of it."

Oreius nodded and drew a relieved breath when Edmund did as well. Like all who were given a drop of the cordial the traces of its magic showed easily on their faces. All signs of pain vanished and most even smiled. The instant relief of pain often caused a state of euphoria. The great general leaned as far down as he could come and rested his massive hands on the boy's forehead. He only now noticed that Kanell had joined them from the wall and was peering anxiously over his shoulder. Celer as well.

"Edmund?" Susan's sweet voice made the king smile even wider before he opened his eyes.

"Why do I smell smoke?" he asked calmly.

"They set fire to the courtyard, my King." Oreius answered with another relieved breath.

Edmund cracked his eyes open to mere slits and looked up at his friend, tutor and commander. "I thought it might be something like that."

Susan was crying silently and smiling at the same time. "You stupid child!"

Edmund stretched his neck and looked up at her through his big, brown eyes like a child. "What did _I_ do?"

Her sobs then began, though she was still smiling. "You went and got yourself stabbed. _Again_."

Edmund's light expression softened somewhat and even saddened a little. "All in the service of our Lord." He reached up and wiped the tears off his sister's cheeks before he was helped to sit and hugged close by her.

She had long ago given up on telling him "never again". He always promised, but somehow forgot in the heat of things. These days, whenever her brother was returned to her in all manners of disarray, she only held him close and thanked Aslan that he made it home at all. That was all she _could_ do. She stroked his hair back and kissed his head as she held him, and he let her. Distantly she heard Oreius call for somebody to help Harash, who was healed but featherless, inside and for others to get their behinds back on the walls.

Edmund pulled back to join them, but Susan didn't let him go until after almost a minute. "I know what you want to do." she told him with her mouth buried in his hair. She felt him tense up. "You want to go command your army."

He relaxed a little.

She pulled back and sniffed, hardly daring to look in his eye. "And I'm going to let you-" He shifted. "-if you _promise_ me…" They looked deep into each other's eyes. "That you won't get shot or stabbed anymore tonight."

For an instant Edmund looked almost defiant until a great smile split his face and laughter bubbled out of him.

"Edmund, this isn't a joke!"

He calmed with great effort. "Of course, of course. I know." He sobered and looked into her eyes a moment. The smile was still pulling to escape, but he forcefully held it back. "I've missed you too, Susan." His hand petted her cheek and he leaned in to kiss it.

Susan drew a deep breath and allowed some of the panic of seeing her younger brother, near death, to melt off. She swallowed and nodded before she made to get up and was instantly helped by her brother. She held his hand another second before she resolutely turned and headed toward the castle. A Cat raced out of the grand doors, almost lost in the melee, to greet her. "Master Panicus has begun evacuating everyone who is uninjured." she said quickly while she turned to follow her queen inside.

"Tell him to hold off on the evacuation."

The Cat nodded. "Your Majesty doesn't wish to stay outside?"

Susan stormed through the doors, only vaguely hearing them close behind her. "No."

Edmund watched his sister disappear behind the thick castle gates before he turned back to the rebels. "How many?"

"Five hundred-or-so when they first arrived." Oreius looked over the once lovely field in front of the Cair. It was now littered with bodies. One of the great Oak Trees was still burning though its screaming had somewhat lessened. It was the tree their catapult had hit in order to draw out the rebels. Oreius hoped it survived.

"How many now?"

"About half."

The young king glanced over at his general with a mixture of admiration and surprise. "And our side?"

"Is a few men short."

Edmund actually smiled then just as his soldiers fired another volley into the ranks below. The Telmarines had stopped their advance, but had yet to retreat.

"Which still makes us fewer than they." Oreius finished with a disgruntled growl.

"Don't fret. My brother is coming with men of his own."

The general and he shared a look of tentative relief.

* * *

><p>Rabadash nodded to Bismillah as they passed in the halls. "Is it done?"<p>

"As per your Majesty's request." the minister nodded with the faint hint of a smile. The kings of Calormen had never scared him. The only reason he was now allowing the disowned royal to harass him was because he was interested in the outcome. What would the Tisroc do once he learned that his sons had all been killed by the one son who no longer held any legal claim to the throne? Rabadash the Ridiculous. Perhaps the Tisroc would have a change of heart about the kind of man his son was after this day?

Rabadash nodded and proceeded on with a smile.

In the main courtyard of the Tisroc's palace were fifteen hundred royal soldiers lined up. All of them watching and waiting for the masses to begin their assault on the palace. A throbbing, heaving mass of bodies. Soldiers and commoners alike. Most outside the gates, holding torches or crude weapons. Some of them with the black suits as dictated by the old religion and scimitars held firmly to their chests.

Among the men behind the palace fences stood three of the Tisroc's five sons. Luz, Shere and Mamush. For the three sons of the king much could be said. Luz was aggressive like his oldest brother, Rabadash. Mamush was very much like the two except he was quite alright with his role as younger brother and servant to his king. Though he was arrogant. Much too arrogant for his own good. Shere, on the other hand, was a man unlike any of his brothers. The youngest of them all, only outdone by a younger sister who had long ago been sold to men of the southern tribes. Shere believed in honor and had studied under Bismillah himself. He had studied political science by reading every piece of literature, be it Calormene or Narnian.

Had Fate on this day intervened and spared the life of the youngest son his country would surely have won a much more favorable fate.

As it was Fate had little intention of involving herself with the likes of this war. It was governed and preordained by a creature much fiercer than she.

So as the three sons of the Tisroc watched Jazir's army begin its advance, three guards out of the fifteen hundred drew their swords. Not with the intent to combat the rebels, as their brothers in arms, but with the intent to kill the sons of Shehyzan. As the front gates were rushed and collapsed under the sheer weight of the advancing army, the three guards stepped forward and slew each of the brothers.

Neither of the sons saw this betrayal coming. Luz was far too focused on the battle, Mamush was far too arrogant to ever believe such a threat was real. And Shere, dear Shere, had never even conceived the possibility that his death would be by his brother's hand.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere in the palace Hebu Tarkaan was hiding from the battle. The night was lit by torches and war cries. Hebu was very much like his father, the Tisroc. He was fat and spoiled. He was lazy and scheming. His political mind was far greater than his strategic mind. He had spies everywhere. Even within his own home. So when rumor reached him that his brother had commissioned his assassination Hebu made arrangements. Not to kill his oldest brother, but rather to run. So when word reached him that his three younger brothers had been killed he raced from his rooms as fast as his obese body allowed. He was flanked by only his most loyal guards and escorted to a southern stable. There sat a carriage, awaiting him.<p>

Before he left Hebu cast one last glance towards the castle and wished he could have done more to ensure the survival of his brothers. Mamush and Shere at the very least. Luz had always wanted the throne too much for his own good, but their younger brothers had only ever served.

"Sire, we must leave now." his guard whispered.

As more fires lit up the northern part of the palace Hebu climbed into his carriage and sped away from his home. He would let Rabadash sink his own ship. Hebu knew the Narnians were coming and knew they would not settle for taking the rebel army. The queen was still in his father's keep and he felt that revenge would be swift and violent. All he had to do was run to a dear uncle of his and hide until every last competitor for the throne had been killed.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> And just because I know that none of you have copies of my notes, here's a list of the brothers so far. Starting with the oldest: Rabadash, Hebu, Luz, Mamush, Shere. And an unnamed daughter. Maybe I should dismiss her simply because she's not there?


	25. Chapter 24: Strength

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Pevensies, but I do own the Oak trees, the rebels (whoopie for that huh?) and the nomads.

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry, again for the wait for this chapter. I actually find myself wishing I had a little more excitement to offer you guys, but that will have to wait just a little bit longer. In the meantime I've discovered that I love writing filler scenes. Also that I hate writing battle scenes. They're a hassle to keep track of and somehow I always wind up writing them out to be really boring unless I can focus on one certain character. Now, may I just ask: How many of you are reading this story thinking "There's not enough Hurt!Edmund in this"? I'd like to know since I'm re-working the chapters that follow this one and have room to squeeze in a little Ed-whump :) The passage below was written by me FYI.

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><p><strong>Chapter 24: "Strength"<strong>

"_I was born with a scream. I grew under the gentle guidance of my parents. My life was filled with passion and emotion. As I grew, not only taller, but older, I learned. I learned to speak. I learned to read. Learned control. Thought. When I was a man I found a wife. Lovely thing. Our love was never easy. It was a storm. Like the ocean. I could have lived a thousand lives and never known anyone like her. I grew older still. My eyes took in the world around me. I changed over the years. I learned more and more. Changed. I became wiser and forgot the passion of my youth. My wife died of old age. I mourned her and hated the fate that had been dealt me. How could I live now my love was gone? I grew older still. Raised grandchildren. Became wiser as well. Until one day I watched my granddaughter as she played. Her friend took a toy from her and she screamed. She pounded the ground and whipped up a fuss. Her mother, my daughter in law, came over to chastise her. And I smiled. I could not help myself feel upset about my daughter in law. How she forced my passionate, little granddaughter to be silent. And I felt in me a rage I had not felt since the days of my youth. It was my heart coming alive I realized. I had been given a chance to do it all again. But this time it would different. This time I would not let myself be ruled by passion. I would not disregard powerful emotions in favor of thought. This time I would feel __and__ think."_

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><p>The area around Cair Paravel was in a state when Peter arrived. Phillip was sweating and panting under him, but barely tired from running. It seemed the same was valid for all the riders and Centaurs. Many of the nomads had been forced to wait at Caldron Pool until more mounts could be brought to them. Until the rest of their tribes could take a hidden path across the mountains. Peter had learned too late that an ancient rift existed in the rocks that divided Narnia from Telmar.<p>

The same rift that allowed the nomads to bring their carriages and horses with them every summer. Only it was too far for Peter to bother. He knew his brother had been sent safely to the Cair, but had no idea if he had arrived. It was the main reason for his haste. The main reason for pleading Cillo to carry Valera on his back when there weren't enough horses.

Carriages had been built in record time to be drawn by the Dogs, Wolves and Great Cats. A sacrifice that Peter wasn't about to forget. But still they had been forced to leave more than half of the nomads behind.

All through the night the small group had sped. Tumbling over rock and stone. Bursting through rivers, low from the long summer. Waking dozing Dryads and Naiads in their haste to combat the enemy that threatened the castle.

It was early morning when they arrived. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and the sky was still more blue than yellow. Vanilla clouds dotted the heavens high above them and lent a serene feeling to the air that Peter, regardless of how hard he tried, couldn't feel. They slowed their frantic pace only after Cillo and Flit the Falcon reminded the king about the rebels. Peter reluctantly sat back and allowed Phillip to pick a slower pace. It was only when the Horse suddenly huffed he even remembered who he was riding. He had never even asked the Horse if he would carry him, assuming Edmund's dear friend was as anxious as he to see Edmund.

"How are you doing, Phillip?" he whispered, though several in their little group heard.

The Horse ticked his ear in a way Peter had learned meant amusement. "It's been years since I've run like that. It makes me feel like a colt, your Majesty." And there certainly was a bounce to his steps that Peter couldn't dismiss.

"I take it you heard about Edmund?" Peter couldn't allow Phillip's hope to make him careless or worry-free.

"Arroll told me before she left for the castle." The Horse puffed. "My Boy is alright, I feel it in my shanks. Don't worry, King Peter."

Slightly relived by the steed's faith, Peter allowed himself a quick smile. Not saying anything else, he patted Phillip's neck and continued on in the brisk stride. It wasn't until they heard the clatter of weapons and saw the smoke of fires they dismounted. Valera slid soundlessly from Cillo's back and the rest climbed out of the carriages.

All who could do so crawled to the hill that hid the rebels from view and peered over the edge. Peter could see them waking up. Strapping on armor, warming up stiff limbs. They probably thought it would be just another day of their siege. They probably thought this was the day they seized Cair Paravel. He sneered and flinched when their mocking laughter reached their little perch.

Only Romel's hand kept him from bursting into the camp and destroying their one chance for a surprise attack. He allowed himself to be nudged back to the little clearing where their group was hiding. "They're laughing, thinking they've won." He paced the small expanse of grass, gripping his sword in a white-knuckled grip.

"If it's not too forward, Sire-" Cillo interrupted himself when all eyes, including the thunderous ones of the king, turned to him. "but…perhaps it would be wise to temper your passion with consideration?"

Peter looked at the Centaur for a long moment. Everyone there felt certain he would fault a simple soldier for daring to correct his king. When his shoulders dropped and his eyes softened most of them drew relieved breaths.

Romel included. He was slowly beginning to realize that Peter's greatest force was also his greatest hindrance. His passion. His emotions. The trait that made him so magnetic was at once also the thing that made him frightful. A long forgotten memory forced its way upon him just then. The first king he had served was very much like Peter. He had been a man of passion. A man of emotion. It was what eventually led to his demise, but also what made him a force unto himself.

"Thank you for the advice, Cillo." Peter graciously nodded and began pacing much more pensively. "We need to wipe them out once and for all," He was surreptitiously scanning the faces around him. The Dogs, the Wolves, the Great Cats. Even the Irins. Even Zoren and Rillian. "For that we need the army that's currently holed up inside the castle. I need Oreius to lead a charge after we attack."

"A war on two fronts," Barrow said calmly. A faint hint of a lupine smile on his lips. "Very wise, your Majesty."

"We need a messenger-" Peter's eyes caught those of Flit Falcon who was perched on a branch not too high above them.

He flew from the branch and alighted on his king's arm when it extended. "What does my king need?"

"I need you to fly unseen into the Cair and find General Oreius. Tell him of our position and of our plan. Say his high king will give the signal to attack."

"Yes, your Majesty." Flit was off in a matter of seconds, quickly becoming invisible in the tall oak trees and the lingering morning mist.

"What's your plan of attack, Sire?" Cillo asked.

"The royal army will be forced out of Cair Paravel like a spear. Only Gryphons and Birds of prey will be able to break formation. We spread out like a fan and attack from the opposite side. That very hill." He pointed to the hill behind them where they had sat moments before.

"We only have a few horses among us. How do you see us attacking them?" Romel asked. "They've got more men and probably mounts."

"We have the advantage of knowing the forest." Peter's smile sent a chill rippling through the Irin. Even more so when the king allowed his gaze to drift to the surrounding trees before smiling. "Cillo, wake the Hamadryads."

The Centaur smiled as well and turned, tagging a couple of Narnians to follow.

"The Hamadryads don't follow the law of man." Valera said quietly. "They won't fight on the side of humans."

"They will if I ask." Peter said with an air of arrogance. "It's been a long time since you were last home. I don't expect you to know, but it wouldn't be the first time they followed my lead." He was still looking among the tree crowns for signs of life.

"I think you've got a screw loose, your Majesty." Archer blurted before darting a worried glance at Romel. "With all d-due respect." He lowered his voice. "The Dryads aren't like the Hamadryads. They're not pretty ladies made from flower pedals and leaves. The Hamadryads are a separate race-"

"Trees come to life. I know." Peter interrupted. He was getting fed up with the constant murmurs of doubt. He felt they had been going on since the beginning of the trip and was slowly reaching the end of his rope. "You shouldn't presume to know more about my home than I. You probably weren't much older than I when you were banished and a lot of things have changed." His voice was nearing an angry hiss.

"Your Majesty," Cillo cautiously interrupted when he returned to the clearing. Everyone turned to him. "They're ready."

The Oak Hamadryads were a race not to be addressed lightly. When one of them moved they could sometimes rip up roots for miles, and that was when they were happy. The sibling who had the best relationship with them was unsurprisingly Lucy. She had loved them since the very first day of queen-hood. The Oak Trees had since then moved and relocated in a circle around the Cair. A part of the very grove the rebels now hid in.

It was, as the Trees said, their way of always guarding their favorite queen. At that moment Peter loved them for it.

"Now we just wait for confirmation from Flit." He smiled at Cillo and couldn't help smirking at Archer as well. "You'll get to see the difference a thousand years makes."

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><p>Edmund was watching the sun rise, when others would have watched the rebels camped out on their front lawn. He despised them for taking the liberty. The nomads were one thing. They had politely asked to borrow the space it took to set up their fair. But these <em>heathens<em> had snuck across his borders and ripped up the entire field so the Narnian archers would have nothing to burn. Did they not realize how long it would take to repopulate that field? That every blade of grass was special?

He was seething when something out the corner of his eye caught his attention. A bird, landing on one of the many messenger rails along the balconies and windows of Cair Paravel. He left his command to Kanell and pulled Oreius with him inside.

There he found Panicus, but no sign of his sister. "Have you seen Queen Susan?" he asked the Monkey.

Panicus shook his head and darted worried glances around the hall. "No, put them _there_!" he shouted to four of his smaller cousins who were carrying a makeshift bed for the wounded. "I havn't seen her, your Majesty. The last we spoke she was going to the kitchens."

Edmund nodded, already walking towards the balcony he thought the Falcon might have landed on. "Will you tell her I'm in the Eastern wing if she asks?"

"Of course."

He nodded and took off with Oreius in tow. The two of them sped up abandoned halls till the sea began glinting through the windows. The sun was only just cresting the horizon. "Check in there?" he asked Oreius who veered off as quickly as Edmund uttered the command. Edmund himself went into another room that Lucy often used as a drawing and reading room. He stepped onto the balcony and took a look, but no Falcon. He sighed and turned. He was halfway out the room when Oreius called.

"In here, Sire."

He jogged through a wide open door into a room that was especially designed for the Birds of Cair Paravel. Plenty of shelves, mirrors and water basins everywhere. There, on his general's arm, he spotted the Falcon. "Flit."

He bobbed his head. "Your Majesty."

"Your sister arrived safely. She's been sent to Anvard to alert King Lune of the happenings here." Edmund told the Bird.

Flit nodded again and stretched his wings when Oreius lowered his arm slightly.

"What news have you for me?"

"Your brother, the High King, is sitting just beyond the Oak Circle, your Majesty."

Edmund couldn't help the smile that lifted his face, but quickly sobered when a worry popped into his mind. "Is he well?"

"He is," Flit nodded. "He is with your soldiers, the four Irins and some of the nomads. They plan an attack on the rebels."

"Excellent." He glanced at his general. "I was getting tired of waiting anyway."

Oreius cracked a hint of a smile, which was quite much for the usually stoic Centaur. Flit cleared his throat. "His Majesty asked me to tell you, they will be attacking from the opposite side of the main gates. He will give a signal when he needs your Majesty to attack."

Edmund nodded and a hand unconsciously slipped to his chin as he thought. "My brother knows we'll be funneled out of the gates. It's barely wide enough for two lines, let alone three. The rebels would have the advantage in seconds if we just marched out and faced them."

"He mentioned the Gryphons and the Birds of prey, your Majesty."

Edmund's brown eyes were wide as he listened to the scout. "They'll be the only leverage we have should my front fall."

"Your brother will not fail, King Edmund." The Centaur looked at him with just the hint of pride in his eyes. "His family is in this castle."

Edmund looked at the general and suddenly had a flash of fear. What would he do once Oreius died? Granted Centaurs lived long lives, often twice as long as humans, but Oreius was old when he and their siblings first arrived. How would their battles look once the wise general was no longer there to advise them? How would their children's battles look?

As if sensing the fear in his king, Oreius stepped forward with Flit on one arm, and placed the other on Edmund's shoulder. "Fear not, my King," His voice lowered. "You are not alone."

Edmund glanced down when the weighty stare became too much and only remembered Flit because the scout battled his wings in slight discomfort. He knew Falcons. They were determined creatures. They didn't do well with nothing to do. With no purpose. "Master Falcon," The Bird looked up. "I need you to fly and tell my brother I am well. Tell him we are ready." Flit nodded. "When you have done that I need you to fly to every Bird scout that is still missing and tell them Narnia marches to war against Calormen."

If Birds had the ability to look surprised Flit surely would have sported the expression just then. "When you've found your cousins," Edmund continued. "-fly to Anvard. Tell King Lune and ask if he can possibly aid us in any way. Tell him we should be there before the week's end."

The Bird nodded.

"Be off."

He lifted from Oreius' arm and flew out the same window he entered by. As he left, Oreius looked at his king and started following him out when he turned. "Queen Lucy."

"She's still in Tashbaan and not by choice, if my instincts are at all correct." Edmund said with hate in his eyes as they made their way out of the castle. "Do you know if Celer has returned yet?"

"He has. Shall I call for him?"

"Do that." Edmund said sadly. "He hasn't seen his family in a long time, but if we're going to war I need him with me."

Oreius nodded, apparently understanding.

Outside they were met with the same tense silence as before. Half the royal army was busy manning the walls while the day shift prepared for another attempt to hold off their enemies. Except this day they would do so much more than just hold them off, Edmund decided. He stopped in the center of the courtyard. "All hands to attention!" he barked.

Every Animal or Creature there, except for a handful of guards along the walls, rushed to meet him and hear what he had to say. "Outside my brother is waiting for us." A rumble of excited murmurs met his statement. "He prepares to charge as we speak. I want you all to get ready to march out. Today we liberate Cair Paravel and tomorrow we march on Tashbaan."

The murmurs turned to silence. Everyone looked at their king in surprise, and some with apprehension.

"Cyn." The Gryphon captain stepped cautiously away from the rest of the men. His Gryphon guard behind him. "I need you and your scouts to fly out and call every Narnian soldier to war. Tell them to come to Cair Paravel as soon as possible. Speed is of the essence, stealth is _not_."

"We shall return by nightfall." The captain nodded and turned to assign flight routes to each of his men. "Zizi, fly west. Go by the River Rush until it ebbs out, then head north towards the marshes. Otonoca, Sully. Divide the eastern shore between the two of you. Alert the giants to the consequences of failing to follow their king's command."

The two scouts nodded, though Sully sent a longing look towards the castle before he took off. Cyn turned back to his king. "I'll head north. Contact every living soul that ever swore loyalty to this country."

Edmund nodded gratefully and watched the mighty creatures take flight.

* * *

><p>Across the gates of the Cair, behind the Oak Circle, Peter watched four Gryphons leave on the morn of battle. He frowned and wondered what the devil Oreius was thinking. Why he was sending his best offensive force out moments before the attack.<p>

"Sire, Flit is back."

The Falcon was perched on a fallen log in a clearing a bit away from the first one. Around were men and Creatures alike. All of them wrapped up in the haste with which the Bird had obviously flown. "Your Majesty!" he cried the second he saw Peter. "Your brother lives. He is well."

For Peter it was as if a stone fell from his heart.

"He tells you that he awaits your signal."

"Do you know why he sent away the Gryphons?"

"He is calling all of Narnia to him. Says he intends to march upon Tashbaan, your Grace." Silence sank over the gathered like a clap of thunder. "To free the Queen."

Peter nodded. He had suspected that Lucy wasn't simply spending her last weeks of summer in Tashbaan out of politeness. Obviously Edmund had the same thoughts and the sense of mind to act on them. Anger raged inside him at the thought of anyone holding his baby sister prisoner. He should have killed the Tisroc the first time that fat king tried to hurt his family. With a clanking of weapons his mind snapped back to the present. Before he could ever get a chance to take his pound of flesh from the Tisroc's hide he would need to defeat the rebels. "What of today? How are the men?"

"Well as far as I could see. Not that many wounded. Queen Susan has the cordial-"

"I figured." Peter mumbled.

"And she is taking great care of any injured."

Peter's eyes softened at the thought of his gentle sister. He wondered how she had handled their absence and made a silent vow to be more considerate in the future. Susan never complained much. She was capable of performing most things on her own and did so with the utmost grace. Thus Peter often overlooked her in favor of their two youngest siblings. "Very good, Master Falcon. What else did my brother tell you?"

"He asked me to fly out and find as many Birds of the Narnian army as possible. To bring them all to Cair Paravel." Peter nodded and was surprised when the Falcon continued. "When I finished the king asked me to fly to Anvard and ask King Lune for his help as well."

Peter studied the dutiful Bird a little closer. Edmund had always been fond of Falcons. All Birds of prey, really. Peter was beginning to understand why. "Very good. Will you be alright with the task he set upon you?"

Flit flapped his wings quickly. "I take _honor_ in the faith he has placed on me, Sire. And it has been awhile since I've spoken with my sister. She is in Anvard at the moment."

Peter smiled and nodded. His brother certainly had a way of inspiring loyalty in people. It helped that he was smart and empathic enough to take his subjects under consideration in a time of strife. He looked up and nodded again, this time to Cillo. "Prepare for battle."

The soldier smiled in the most menacing way Peter had ever seen and let out a yell to those around them. "_To waaar_!"

Bellows of consent rang out and everyone drew their weapons. It was only as they were about to walk out Peter noticed the Irins. He quickly approached Romel and pulled him aside. "I'll understand you'd rather not fight." The Irin looked at him in surprise. "You promised yourselves to never again follow a king, right?" Peter remembered that conversation with his brother.

To his surprise Romel smiled. "We're soldiers, my King. And we want to help. What help would we be if we failed to do the one thing we do well?"

At his smile Peter did as well. His eyes brightened and relief rippled through him. "Thank you," he whispered and clapped Romel's shoulder before passing by him to lead the advance. Romel was left speechless as his three friends sided up next to him. Valera with a smile.

"Perhaps they're not that bad after all?" She clapped his shoulder the same way Peter had and continued on. Even Archer sent his commander a mocking grin in passing.

It was only when Thale approached him with a concerned frown Romel snapped out of his strange trance. "Captain?"

"I haven't been a captain for a long time." Romel mumbled.

Thale chuckled quietly to himself and gave his captain a soft nudge. "You've always been our captain…_Captain_."

Romel looked at the young man, the friend he had known for almost a thousand years. The boy he was. The old soul he was. The soldier. The son. The brother. The husband. He was reminded of someone he had not thought of for eight hundred years. A lovely Dryad named Valina. Birch and pretty as a picture. How she had kissed him goodbye the last time he ever saw her. They would have been married, he and she. Raised a whole bunch of little Fauns and Dryads. He was a captain then.

He started walking to follow the Narnians and his friends. His king.

As they burst forward with the giant Hamadryads and their unique war cries, he smiled. Perhaps he could be that man again?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I know I said that battle scenes were boring, and so I'm opening myself up to any suggestions you might have. If you feel you need something (as I mentioned before about the Ed-whumpage) just let me know in a review. I'll try to do your requests justice. As always, I love you all, my little snowflakes.


	26. Chapter 25: Tale of the Falcon

**Disclaimer:** Read 24 previous. My brain is too tired from repeating itself.

**Author's Note:** This chapter is basically a spoiler. And I'm sorry to say that the wishes from some of you will be denied. I can't remember who asked me, but it has to be done :( Also the italics are from 1001 Nights. And I know I promised you Ed-whump, but since he's not in this chapter I'm gonna go ahead and post the next one :) Wii. There are several stages to the Ed-hurt you see. The first is emotional. I'll see if I can get in a little physical as well, but I won't make any promises since it has to fit into the storyline above all else.

PS: To those of you (I won't mention any names, but everyone who's curious can see who I'm talkin' about in the review box ;P) who dislike the term "snowflake" I bid you go watch (or hopefully re-watch) Fight Club. When you've done that come back and tell me if you still don't think the term is cool.

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><p><strong>Chapter 25: "Tale of the Flacon and the Partridge"<strong>

"_The benign partridge was one morning seized by a falcon. The predator swooped low and dug its claws into the other bird, but the partridge escaped. Into his hole he ran and hid. The falcon put upon a mock sad voice and spoke 'Lovely partridge, would I really hurt thee? Why do you not trust me that I would not kill my own brother? I arrived to take you to the well of grain and fruits I have gathered for you. To make you well and hale'. The partridge peaked from his hiding place 'Is it really so?'_

'_Wholeheartedly, my cousin!' the falcon cried. The little partridge ventured out whereupon the falcon seized him again and dug his claws into him. The prey he cried in disappointment 'Would thou do this to your brother, I shall turn my blood into nightshade and my flesh into dirt! Thou shall eat me and die'. The falcon laughed and ate the little partridge. But behold, the moment of completion when the last partridge feathers danced in the air, the mighty falcon choked and fell to the ground dead."_

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><p><strong>Two weeks into the future…<strong>

Lucy watched the crowds outside the palace gates with a frown. A frown, she had discovered, that would not leave. So she had stopped trying. The situation was bad. She was forced to admit that to herself. She was worried about her soldiers. Her friends. Spindla couldn't be doing very well this far from her tree. None of them were doing very well this far away from their homes.

The rebels had broken down the gates only two weeks prior, but had been forced back by the sheer number of royal soldiers. Also it helped that they had been able to block the gates with their piling corpses. Jazir had taken trophies as well. He had taken the head of every fallen enemy and posted them on spikes. Lucy shuddered to think what awaited that man in the afterlife. What Aslan's expression would be once the two met.

It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him. She had heard him preaching about retribution and had overheard the girls who brought her food gossiping about his son being killed in the palace. What she wouldn't do to someone who took a child from her. _Any_ family member. She could feel the ire for the Tisroc making her stomach churn. What Peter and Edmund would do when they attacked.

Because attack, they would. It was only a matter of time. She knew they were here. It was a feeling in her chest but also the unusual amount of birds in the sky for this time of year. Most birds should have headed north by now. She wondered how many they had brought with them. Where they were camped and how long it would be until they came swooping in. Not long she hoped.

She flinched when her lock turned. She looked at the half empty plate and wondered who could be disturbing her this soon. She should've known when his slick hair and easy smile peeked out behind the door. "Rabadash." She turned to look out the window again.

"Queen Lucy." He was standing in the middle of the room without making a move to sit or even move without her invitation. Either he had suddenly learned manners or he had something up his sleeve.

"How is business?" she asked and pointed to the main courtyard. She had seen the three sons of Shehyzan be cut down. She had also noticed that it had been done by three of their own guards and suspected Rabadash had had a hand in killing his brothers.

"Ahh, you enjoyed the show?"

She turned to him with the most patience she could. "War doesn't impress me, Rabadash." She clasped her hands behind her back. "You should stop trying."

His smile softened as he tilted his head at her. "You are more like your sister than I thought." He took a step closer, but Lucy refused to back away.

Instead she allowed her chin to rise to keep her gaze locked with his. "And you're more like your _father_ than you think."

Instead of taking it as the insult it was he smiled and reached up a hand to pet her cheek. "Like a king?"

Lucy was enjoying the sudden devotion that showed on his face. "Like a fat, little man with too much power." she whispered sweetly.

It had the desired effect and Rabadash jerked slightly. Instead of dropping his hand he reached down around her neck and pushed her back. She let out a little yelp. She felt certain he could feel her pulse beating frantically under her skin. She tried to control the urge to push him off. She had to wait for the opportune moment or he would just try again.

"The kings and queens of Narnia…" he sighed. Both his hands tightened around her throat and panic seized her. Her hands automatically went to remove his, to no avail. "You sit in your towers and watch us. For _years_ you have been watching!" he hissed and tightened his grip.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she began struggling a little more.

"You pretty, little children. You think you're superior." he growled and released her with one hand. "My father tries to convince himself otherwise, but I know the truth." His fingers traveled over her shoulder and down her arms while the other held tight around her throat. "You _are_ better." he breathed.

His hand ran lightly over the curve of her breast and down to her waist. She jerked to throw his touch off. Angry tears, running down her cheeks. But still he held on. Not choking her like before, but enough to keep her pinned against the wall. "You think I could _ever_ love you!" she lashed out hoarsely. He caught her flailing arm and pushed it up against the wall, taking a wider stance to keep his balance, and pressed himself closer to her.

It was then Lucy saw her chance and took it. With all her power she rammed her knee into his groin and felt a satisfaction when he doubled over with a wheeze and backed away.

"You think _any_ of us ever respected you!" she hissed. She began stepping back into the room as he kept backing up. "We were talking about you behind your back, _laughing_ at you, Rabadash!" Her voice was hoarse from the anger she was feeling, but from the choking as well. Her body felt like it was burning. Like she wasn't a girl anymore, but an animal of some strange origin. "I don't need my brothers to fend you off, I can do that _myself_!" She kicked out and hit his shoulder. He stumbled back and scrambled towards the door. "You will not _touch_ me ever again. Do you understand?"

When he looked up it was with a flash of horror. What he saw in her eyes Lucy could not witness for herself. What he saw was a flash of gold mixed with her usual azure. He rolled to his feet and ripped open the door. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, slightly breathless. Looking like he didn't want to come anywhere near her. "I wanted to spare you of this, but my father insisted." He waved two men into the room.

In their hands they held a corpse. A woman, whose head was covered by a flour-sack. She almost stopped breathing when they ripped the bag off and the corpse's head lolled onto the floor. The wound that had been dealt her sparkled in blood, slick against her stomach. Lucy's hand went to her mouth and she pushed back against the wall. Tears began falling from her eyes and her breathing became more and more frantic.

Rabadash ordered his men out and regained his composure. "This is what happens when you only watch and let others do for you." he said and spat on the once pretty girl at his feet. He turned and locked the door behind him.

Lucy sank to her knees with the hand in front of her mouth still. Tears streaming from her eyes and breathtaking sobs, ripping out of her. They became wails that made her entire body ache as she looked into the face of a friend.

From the floor, Lark's dead eyes stared back at hers.

* * *

><p>Outside <em>one<em> army called two others to war.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> This is part of your torture because now I jump _back_ in time, see? :D I'm so happy none of you are here to slap me right now. The world of digital wonders will never cease. On we go...


	27. Chapter 26: Wheel of Fortune

**Disclaimer:** Here it is again: I own nothing, but my appartment and the massive spider that sits in the corner and stares at me. (My brain has rested and is now ready again)

**Author's Note:** The part in italics was translated directly from the description of the "Wheel of Fortune" card in the 1981 Danish collection, and exploration into taro card symbology and history, simply titled "Tarot".

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><p><strong>Chapter 26: "Wheel of Fortune"<strong>

"_Change is the law that governs. Nothing is constant. Nothing can be maintained with absolute certainty. It is only possible to free oneself from the wheel of change by accepting its movements. Not to learn and grow would only force one into a steady cycle of life and death for all eternity. To gain true victory one must simply let go."_

* * *

><p>The battle was a haze for Peter. He couldn't remember when he realized they had won, but he remembered looking around and spotting his brother amidst their subjects. "Edmund!" Peter had rushed over to greet his brother. He guessed the cordial had been home after all. A tiny voice warned him that Lucy was without it, but he couldn't deny the joy of seeing his brother up and fighting.<p>

Edmund had looked relieved as well, albeit in a much more subdued manner. He had smiled the smile that none other than his brother could usually command. They met in a crushing hug as their soldiers cheered in the wake of victory. When they had separated Oreius had come and placed a large hand on the side of Peter's face. A soft expression in his eyes. Susan had greeted then with tears in hers. Peter was given the first hug before she quickly pulled her younger brother in for a second. When she pulled back and looked at them both something infinitely soft slid over her face. It was a look Peter could not remember seeing ever before.

The reunion was far too short for his liking. Panicus called their sister for orders and Susan was whisked away into a world of panicked citizens and traumatized refugees. The entire castle had been commandeered by those who had sought refuge. Those who usually lived around Cair Paravel. The fixed residents were all helping where they were needed.

"Your Majesties should rest." Oreius stated when the kings were left be in the middle of the chaos.

Edmund would never understand how his sister could keep in control in the midst of such confusion. He looked up at the Centaur with his brother. Not fully understanding what their general was saying.

Oreius seemed to recognize a similar look of confusion in Peter's eyes and stepped a little closer. "We have a long journey ahead of us. The Queen has called us to war." He sent a look of devotion in the direction Susan had gone.

Peter and Edmund shared a look. "She's what?" Edmund looked back up at Oreius. He wasn't aware Susan had already started what he decided that very morning. That she had been able to oversee the going-ons in the Cair _and_ make plans for departure.

"Queen Lucy is in Tashbaan and Queen Susan has ordered the entirety of the Narnian army to save her."

Edmund nodded, wondering why she hadn't told him about her plans. Peter's hand on his shoulder shocked him awake. "C'mon." He spotted very easily the way his brother was swaying on his feet. Edmund must not have slept since he returned. Peter hadn't either, but he had been traveling and had been full of worry for his brother. Sleep had been the least of his concerns. Now it seemed it would be necessary if they were to lead their army through the desert. "Our Queen has called to war and she can probably handle things for a few hours." It was only midday. The battle had been surprisingly quick. The rebels were apparently not very well trained and their chain of command had been almost non-existent.

When they entered their room both of them sagged. Oreius and a few of his guards stayed outside the doors while the young kings undressed and cleaned. Edmund had to help Peter with his armor after his fifth attempt to untie a troublesome knot.

Peter smiled when his thoughts turned back to his sister. "It's nice that she can still surprise me."

With his back turned, Edmund huffed. "She had the idea to call in the reserve forces before I even got here." The hauberk fell to the floor. He put it on a chair and suddenly had trouble keeping his worries at bay. "Do you think Lucy is alright?" he whispered.

Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at his brother's back. "If not, she will be." His hard voice left no doubt that this was the final straw. The Tisroc had made his last mistake. "What I don't understand is why Shehyzan would have instigated a fight with us, knowing he was under attack from another army,"

Edmund glanced at him before he headed to the bed and fell down with a deep exhale. "The Tisroc has been going mad." He closed his eyes though he felt Peter's on him. "Spies all say the same. They claim he's been talking to himself. He disowned Rabadash too."

Peter grunted. He couldn't claim to be terribly upset about that particular fact, but it still added validity to the statement that the Tisroc was going mad. Rabadash had always been his favorite son. "Maybe…" He fell into his own bed and curled under the covers. "I wish we could just make peace with that damned country."

"Hm." Edmund agreed. His eyes had closed and he looked asleep already.

"When do you think the nomads will get here?"

At that he looked up at his brother. Dark rims below each eye. "The nomads are coming?"

"Romel and the other three are here as well." Peter mumbled as an answer. "I assume they're resting as well."

"How many nomads?"

Peter shrugged without opening his eyes. "About two hundred I assume. Maybe all of them. Rillian said something about seeking asylum in Narnia."

"Really?" Edmund's brown eyes were scanning his brother's relaxed form fondly.

"Mhm." Peter sighed and yawned. Both brothers were angled towards each other. He stretched and snuggled deeper into the covers.

The darker brother had yet to curl under his own. His eyes were taking everything in. His familiar post bed. His brother's calm expression and the way he had folded both hands in front of his chest. "More humans." he mumbled.

"More humans." Peter echoed. "'S getting' crowded."

Edmund could tell his brother was very nearly asleep. "Sleep, brother." he whispered before he too closed his eyes and curled on his side.

The kings awoke to find two unexpected visitors in their room. Peter was the first to rouse. He snorted and jerked awake. The twins were both sitting in a lounge chair. Cor was curled up, biting his fingernails and Corin was slouching on one of the armrests. The high king sat up and rubbed his face. "Hello there." He smirked a little at their befuddled faces. "Does my sister know where you are?" he whispered.

They both nodded. "She sent us here." Corin answered. "We heard that King Edmund was hurt." The younger brother was watching the Just King snore softly.

Peter smiled brightly and stretched. "The cordial healed him. _I_ hear you helped out in the battle?" He was surprised they hadn't sought out his brother the second they learned he was back. Things must have been hectic.

The boys glanced at each other, wondering if he was perhaps angry with them.

Peter couldn't hide his widening smile, but also couldn't disregard his responsibility. "What would your father say to you fighting?" In reality he was more worried what Lune might say to _him_.

Corin looked ashamed, but Cor just smirked. "He would scold us and say that Aslan made us too much like _you_."

Peter huffed and rolled out of bed. "What time is it?"

"Nearly four." Corin answered.

On the bed next to him Edmund groaned. "Stop talkin'." he moaned into his pillow.

Peter smiled again and wondered where this sudden burst of joy came from. Perhaps he had needed the rest more than he anticipated. But his joy left him when he noticed that both twins were staring nervously at Edmund. Both of them looked tired as well. Frightened. He sighed and walked over to Corin. Without a word he pulled the young man to his feet and hugged him. Corin allowed it and even seemed to enjoy it a little. "This wasn't your first battle." Peter stated. He knew both brothers had snuck out to fight four years prior when Anvard had been under attack. He pulled back and looked the young prince in the eye. "Why the long faces?"

He glanced at Cor when Corin didn't answer. The crown prince was pulled to his feet as well and given a hug. "It's good to have you back, your Majesty." he said softly into Peter's shoulder.

The high king sighed and looked both boys over. "We're marching for Anvard one of these days. I think you should come with us. Stay there once we continue on."

The boys nodded. He suspected they were both terribly homesick with all this unrest going on around them. Had he been anything less than king he would have felt the same way. He allowed himself to mourn their loss of innocence for a moment before he called for his brother. "Time to wake, my King."

Edmund groaned and snuggled deeper into his bed, but Peter wouldn't have it. He sauntered over and ripped the bedding off. His brother hadn't even slept under his covers, only the bedspread.

"Yes." he said as if Edmund had actually answered him. "Up and out."

The younger brother cringed when the cold assaulted him. He curled up and whipped a pillow after his brother's face.

With a sick smile Peter leaned in and whispered. "We have visitors."

"Hm?" Edmund cracked one eye open and looked in the direction his brother gestured. There he saw the twins watching them both awkwardly. "Oh bloody hell,"

Peter let out a quick bark of laughter. "C'mon, brother. They're anxious to see that you're alive and well." He smiled at the twins, but didn't receive one in return.

Edmund growled at him, but sat up with a bleary look. "What time 's it?"

"Almost four." Peter answered and changed his shirt. It was nice to put on clean clothes for once.

Edmund rolled out of bed and automatically moved over to Corin, who was still watching him with concern. Without preamble he pulled the teen in for a hug. He smiled when the boy let out a little yelp of surprise. He let go and looked at the oldest brother. "Cor." The two hugged as well, though the crown prince wasn't as surprised.

He drew back and looked at the young king. "Is it true some of the Irins died?"

Edmund swallowed when he suddenly felt his stomach curl in on itself. "Yes." he croaked.

"Who's here?" Cor asked in a very small voice.

"Romel, Archer and Valera – if you remember her. Thale as well."

Cor shook his head. "I only remember Romel and Lauviah." He looked down when it became apparent that Edmund couldn't even stand to hear her name spoken. "And the quiet one. The man."

"Hale." He nodded.

"Are they dead?" Corin asked. Cor reacted instinctively and slapped his side before Edmund could answer. It was obvious the teens were upset, but not nearly as much as Edmund.

He nodded and turned, only shooting Peter a glance before he left the room. He realized the unfairness of leaving his brother behind with the twins, but needed something to take his mind off the deaths. The guards outside his room greeted him when he passed. He asked them where to find Oreius since the Centaur was no longer there. He needed something to do. Anything. The first option was to find his general and ask about their departure. If the Centaur had nothing that needed doing the next source of distraction was Susan. Surely she would have a million things going on.

It was just his luck he found Archer first. Nearly bowling him over in his haste to find someone, anyone. The private wing of the castle was eerily quiet except for the stoic guards here and there. The run-in with the Irin made his heart pound and his hand shoot for his hip. He realized he had forgotten his sword in the room and cursed under his breath.

"Sorry… your Majesty." Archer stuttered out and was about to leave.

Edmund's shoulders lowered and an inconsolable sadness overtook him. "Archer," The Irin stopped and turned. "You've always been honest with me." The burley Galmanian looked more than a little confused as he stepped closer. Edmund drew a deep breath before he found the courage to ask what he had wanted to know all this time. "Is that really all I am to you? A king." His big eyes pleaded with the Irin to tell the truth.

For the first time since meeting him Archer was afraid of being honest. Hesitant. "No." he eventually said. "No, you were always more. More than just a boy we met and took with us. More than just a friend." He walked closer until the two were standing directly across from each other. He growled when he found it hard to put his thoughts into words. "When Romel told us to bring you along I thought he was mad."

Edmund's expression hadn't changed. It had dulled as he tried to hide his fear, but the wide-eyed look remained to some extent.

"I thought he was mad when he ordered us to save you in Tashbaan." He sighed as if resigning to the inevitable consequences of his honesty. "I thought he was mad, coming here and asking for your help."

Edmund nodded and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The lump that brought tears to his eyes.

"I wouldn't have done it."

A tear trickled from Edmund's eye and he refused to look up. "I'm s-sorry."

"For what?" Archer asked in a decidedly depressed tone of voice.

"For not s-saving them." Ed stuttered out.

"So am I." he answered gruffly. The silence in the hall was overwhelming.

Edmund nodded again and tried to swallow down the emotions that were pressing to the surface.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Archer reached out and slapped Edmund's shoulder. "C'mon," he said lightly and sniffed. "I think Romel wants to talk to you."

Edmund looked up with a fleeting expression of fear, but allowed Archer to pull him along. By the time they reached the rooms in which the Irins had rested he had composed himself. He looked up to find Romel, Thale and Valera waiting when they entered. Archer didn't release him until they were completely inside. "Found the pup wandering around." he shot off in his usual tone.

To his surprise it made Edmund feel at ease and gave him the courage to look up and meet the eyes of the others. "Hello." He nodded. "Did you rest?"

Valera smiled. "Yes. Thank you."

He nodded again and almost stopped breathing when Archer next opened his mouth. "You'll never guess what he asked me." He went over to the couch and picked up an apple. With a look at Edmund he loudly bit into it. "He asked if we only saw him as King Edmund the Just."

Edmund's face paled. His mind emptied. Words left him. But the next second righteous indignation took over. His face heated and his anger rose to the surface, but before he could silence the Irin Romel answered.

"What a ridiculous question, Ed." His smooth, rumbling voice shocked the king into silence once again.

But the shock was much sooner overcome the second time. "How is it a ridiculous question?" he demanded. He stepped further into the room with anger tightening every line of his body.

"It's ridiculous because you should know better."

He tilted his head, his anger giving way slightly to confusion. Old insecurities he remembered from his time as 'Ed the traveler' and even before then. "How?" He stepped further into the room. "How was I supposed to know better?" Romel was about to answer when all the anger came shooting to the surface. "You left me!" he roared. The room plummeted into a stunned silence and he tried to rein his emotions in and stick to facts. Those were easier to deal with. "You left me on the road- And I _know_ I asked you, but you could have said no." He was breathing heavily and would soon begin pacing if he stayed much longer.

"You could have stayed. You could've-" Tears were again pooling in his eyes. He stopped with two fingers pinching his nose and his breathing running rampant. He thought of Arthur and Lauviah. Saw their faces flash across his mind's eye. With an exhale which sounded more like a sob he turned and forced himself to calm down. The pacing commenced. The entire situation was wearing him thin. Lucy, prisoner in Tashbaan, being the largest contributor.

"Ed?" Romel was apparently out of his seat, but Edmund held out a hand to stop him.

His tears hadn't spilled, but still lingered in his brown eyes. "The army marches for Tashbaan tomorrow." He forced his pain and loneliness deeper down and allowed anger to consume him. "I intend to kill the Tisroc and anyone else who had a hand in taking her." His voice became cold and calm. "If you wish you're welcome to follow." He almost convinced himself he could remain impartial to their decision.

Without another word, or allowing them to answer, he stormed from the room. He could feel it all pushing dangerously close to the surface despite his control. Pressing down on his chest. He headed down the hall until he heard his sister's voice. Suddenly not wanting to deal with her, he ducked into an empty room and closed the door.

What he didn't know was that Susan was heading for that exact room with all her advisors and assistants. Public rooms of the Cair were running low and they found themselves setting up cots in sitting rooms in the royals' private quarters. Susan entered to find her brother whirl around so his back was turned. His hand wiping his face, and his shoulders shaking, trying to contain his sobs. She hadn't even seen him go into the room and was momentarily stunned to find him there.

Then her shock settled and sorrow took over. Seeing her siblings cry had always broken her heart. "Panicus," The Monkey had been staring at Edmund in shock, but looked away at his queen's voice. "Will you make a list of all the rooms available? When we run out, start setting up temporary pavilions in the upper gardens."

"Certainly, my Queen." He bowed and waved the rest of the group out with low hisses for them to 'give them some privacy'.

Susan allowed the slight echo of the closing door to quiet before she spoke. "I heard what happened. Phillip returned with some of the nomads and told me what Peter told _him_."

Edmund's shoulders shook again. Once. She stepped close behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but she refused to pull away. She knew Edmund preferred to be alone and think things through. To sometimes just feel. But his approach didn't always work. "Tell me what you're thinking?" she begged, keeping her hand in place.

When he spoke his voice was shrill. A moaning whine. "I want m-my sister back." He broke and started crying openly.

It was the first she had seen him cry in years. He was usually so shy. So collected. She broke as well. Tears welled up in her eyes and she forcefully turned him to face her. She placed her hands on his cheeks and wiped away the falling tears. "So do I." she whimpered and pulled him close.

When he felt her arms around him his strenuous control broke completely. He clung to her like he was falling, refusing to let go. His hands squeezed the fabric of her dress until she thought it would rip. And through it all she allowed him cling to her. Finally, when his cries had simmered down to deep breaths, she sighed. "You didn't sleep at all did you?"

"I slept," he defended and sniffed. She sighed again and made Edmund pull back to look in her eyes. "Have _you_?"

"A few hours last night." She noticed his frown and smiled, petting his temple and cheek. "Did Peter wake you?"

Ed nodded and slowly slipped out of his sister's embrace. Constantly wiping his face.

"You should go get ready for dinner. I'll have something brought up for us." she promised and hesitated a second before turning. She left the door open on her way out.

Edmund felt his stomach rumble then, but realized with a sinking feeling that he would have to deal with the Irins first and explain what he said. Perhaps they would believe him if he said he was just tired? He frowned on his way out of the room. The halls in the private quarters were usually quiet, but with the refugees, both human and otherwise, the halls were suddenly abuzz. Everywhere he went someone greeted or bowed to him. It appeared as though they had filled up in less than ten minutes.

He found the Irins in the room where he had left them. But now the room was also filled with all their families. The child, the one Romel said was one of them, spotted Edmund the second he entered. With a gasp the boy was up and ran to Edmund. His tiny arms reached around his knees since he barely reached his stomach. Edmund froze and awkwardly placed a hand on the boy's head. Romel, Valera, Archer and Thale were all watching him. Them and the girl who had been assigned to care for the boy.

"Aamel, come here." she called softly.

The boy looked up at Edmund before he hurried back to his guardian. "Romel, might I have a word?" he asked subdued. He didn't need all the attention the others were giving him. "Outside?"

Romel nodded and left with a nod to Valera. Together he and Edmund went outside. The hall bustled occasionally with the sound of Animals or Creatures scurrying by, most of them civilians, but Edmund knew none of them would interrupt or eavesdrop on their king. "I would like to apologize for losing my head before." His voice still sounded far too weak for his own liking. It had been a long time since he had felt so humble. It was not a feeling he much appreciated.

Romel shook his head. "Apology accepted." He sighed, as if about to speak. "I'm sorry we left-"

"Don't." Edmund held up a hand to stop him. "Don't worry." He tried to smile, but then sobered. "We're leaving tomorrow, if you wish to join." He knew Romel had sworn allegiance and knew he should have behaved much more like a king. But he doubted he would ever be completely at ease with ordering them about. Would feel completely comfortable being the king he was to the rest of the world.

"When?"

"At dawn." Edmund looked up. It was easier to speak about war than it was to speak about emotions. He would grab onto anything he could if it helped alleviate the situation.

Romel nodded. "We'll be ready."

"How many are coming?"

"Only the four of us. The rest are too weak or too young."

Both knew Edmund wouldn't argue with Romel's judgment and so his statement held nothing offensive in it. Only the respect of explaining the situation to his king. "Dinner will be brought up to you sometime soon. My sister has the kitchens up and running." _Along with everything else_, Edmund thought. She had done a magnificent job of keeping the occupants of the Cair busy and calm. A skill he knew none of her siblings had.

"Thank you," Romel said. His voice was lower than usual as well.

Not knowing what to say, Ed nodded one last time and turned. But Romel stopped him. "Your brother…"

The Just King looked back at the Irin. "Yes?" A sliver of unease crept up his spine. Probably from being so close to his brother all these weeks and the fear of leaving him even for the shortest of moments. The fear of having to defend him against Romel took him by surprise. He had done it before, but suddenly it felt all the more personal.

"He was amazing out there." Romel answered. And it seemed as if a stone fell from his heart. "He commands more respect than I realized."

Edmund nodded. "He has that way about him, doesn't he?" He smirked.

"That way… Yes." Romel smiled fully. "Would you tell him I said I'm sorry?"

"For what?" Edmund frowned. He noticed Romel opened the door and backed up slightly, and that Archer was staring out at them without a shred of embarrassment. He was even smiling.

"I had a moment of doubt," Romel confessed.

Edmund knew Romel wasn't a prideful man, but one who trusted his instincts. Doubts made his job harder and to harbor them against a king must have put him in a very difficult position. "We all have those moments, but I'll tell him." Edmund nodded before he could say anything else and left. He heard the door close only once he was around a corner. He entered his and Peter's room to the sounds of conversation from the balcony.

Peter's, as he spoke to the twins. Probably explaining to them what he planned on asking their father for. What would happen in that event. Peter and Edmund had long ago made a pact to never exclude the boys. They would keep only the most sensitive matters from them, but never shelter them. They both felt that the boys deserved their honesty. Edmund saw a table had already been brought out. Susan was working with her usual speed and grace. He smiled and sat down.

"Ed, how are you?" Peter's eyes held a drop of worry and left no doubt that Susan had been to tell them about his breakdown.

"Better." He glanced at the twins, not feeling the need to delve deeper into his emotional problems in front of them. Instead he turned to focus to someone else. "Romel sends his apology for doubting you on the battlefield," It was posed almost as a question, though he could vividly imagine how the incident had unfolded. He didn't want Peter to feel cornered.

The High King nodded and suddenly smiled. "He doesn't anymore, does he?"

"No." _How did he figure?_ "You want to walk me through what happened?" Edmund asked as he made himself comfortable. The twins as well, probably relishing the fact that both their kings were back, sat down and listened intently.

"We entered Narnia at Caldron Pool and followed the mountain range to the crossing of the Telmar River. From there on we just crossed straight through the Shuddering Woods and Dancing Lawn."

"How did you get so far in just one night?" Edmund knew it took at least two days to cross their country. His brother must have ridden the horses within an inch of their lives.

"Phillip was unstoppable." He smiled.

Edmund suddenly felt guilty for not going to see his friend yet. "Aslan?"

Peter's smile grew. "No doubt."

He nodded and thought of Romel's lack of faith in Aslan. It was a bit surprising, he had to admit, that none of the Irins had ever seen the Lion. Especially considering how long they had lived and how much they had traveled. But perhaps that was the point? Just then Susan walked back into the room with Dala clapping after her.

"-and the cleaning of the courtyard has begun, including the clean-up around Cair Paravel, your Majesty. All Animals able to help are assisting."

Susan handed the Goat a scroll after reading it. Edmund's brow arched when Dala effortlessly balanced it on her shoulder blades. "How about structural damage to the castle?"

"Not much, but masons and Dwarves are being brought in to fix anything that needs it." At Susan's glance Dala smiled reassuringly. "They're happy to help, my Queen."

It was then the two entered the balcony and saw the kings and the twins staring at them. Susan flashed a quick smile and excused Dala. She sat down next to Peter and sighed. Her brother automatically put his arm around her and rested his chin on her head. "How are you feeling?"

She almost huffed before remembering her manners and the fact that they were not alone. "Tired. Organized, but tired."

Edmund fixed her a cup of coffee before she could even ask. She smiled at him gratefully. "How are you doing, Edmund?"

He nodded and kept their stares a bit longer. "Has father answered your messenger?" Cor suddenly interrupted.

Susan looked up at him and, to the surprise of no one, answered the question. "Yes. He is mobilizing his army. Calling in Counts and Lords from all over Archenland." She looked at her brothers as well. "And soldiers from all over Narnia keep arriving. Even the giants seem to have roused for this." Giants were known for their long hibernation periods. Most of them only woke up for the Spring Feast.

Edmund nodded. Staring at his sister, a somber pride in his eyes.

"So we're really going to war." Peter mumbled. His eyes were staring hollowly at the set table. Susan was still leaning against him. It was by far the first war they had seen. Nor was it the most important, but something about it felt strange. Frightening. Peter suspected it was because one of them was behind enemy lines. That wasn't something he could remember from earlier battles.

Ed and Susan shared a dark-eyed look before she looked down. "Did I make the right decision, calling for war?"

Peter dislodged and looked her in the eye. "Of course. If you hadn't we would have."

"But it would have taken longer for us to be ready." Edmund added. "You saved valuable time by making a move."

"Never let it be said the Queens of Narnia are not warriors." Peter praised fondly. His smile, slowly returning. Edmund smiled as well when Susan blushed prettily. And for just a moment it felt like it always had.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well well. There you go. Two chapters in one day. Hope you all remember to read and enjoy :) I'll see you tomorrow.


	28. Chapter 27: The Chariot

**Disclaimer:** Ownership is relative. But I still don't.

**Author's Note:** Another one because you're so awesome. The passage below was from the same book as the description in the previous chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter 27: "The Chariot"<strong>

"_A new beginning. Great events that cannot be influenced. To reap what has been sown. Fate. Fortune. Luck."_

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><p>Edmund had to admit, he was surprised. He had expected quite a lot, but not <em>this<em>. He stared at the newly joined Wolves. Ed had been given command over everyone not Narnian while Oreius handled the civil forces and Peter the royal army. _Everyone not Narnian_ turned out to be far more than he had expected. Including their latest allies.

The nomads had arrived very early in the morning, in numbers far exceeding the Just King's wildest hopes. Far more than had been present at the council of patriarchs. Even Spalo and his guilds were there. Women as well. It seemed they had rebelled against their usually set roles and insisted to fight. Or at least join.

Edmund had sent a Falcon to alert his brother of the arrivals and had received orders to halt. So they halted when even more nomads arrived. That was two hours before the Wolves arrived as well. The Luri house, Romel had whispered at the strange humans. They came on foot.

It was around then he was approached by a very pleased Zoren. "King Edmund." The patriarch almost beamed. "There is someone here to see you."

And Edmund had been introduced to Whillam Luri for the first time. Great great grandson of the man who established the houses and guilds. A grandson who lived up to his legacy. He was calm and regal, almost more so than Edmund felt at that moment. "An honor," He bowed and received one from Whillam. The two looked at each other and Edmund got the distinct feeling that the nomad could see right through him.

The whimsical smile never left his face and Edmund saw a lot of Whilamina in him. Whillam was about thirty years old. Fair-haired unlike his mother, but with the same features and the same eyes. With him he had a host of about three hundred men. Three hundred more to join their ranks. That brought their side to over three thousand. It blew his mind the magnitude of what they were attempting.

On top of everything it seemed the Irins had decided to act as the king's personal guard since the royal guard was with Peter at the front. The four of them never left his side and had yet to lower their weapons. Edmund was still dealing with that particular turn of events. He was ashamed to say he had expected less from them.

The Wolves were the next unexpected visitors. They had been noticed several miles into the wilderness. Keefang had jumped over to him atop Phillip and announced that he smelled other Wolves. Vala and several others had confirmed his suspicions and Edmund had sent out Bird scouts. The two knights were with him while Bacchus and Nex stayed with Peter.

Edmund had stopped his company of about seven hundred and sent another messenger to his brother. This time the High King came riding into the make-shift camp with Oreius, and several of their royal guards behind him. Red cape, swinging with the motions of his war-mount. Tassels and straps sparkling in whatever sunlight that fell between the tree crowns. Magnificent as ever. "What's happening?" he asked as he dismounted.

Edmund approached him calmly as their men stood to attention. "Keefang alerted me moments ago that Wolves were approaching."

Peter's eyes instantly widened and he remembered again the night he had sent his wounded brother away with Harash. "The Warrows?"

"It would appear so." The two young, men looked at each other before Edmund caught Zoren's eyes. Spalo was there as well. Hema insisted on traveling as close to whichever of the kings he could. When Peter had announced that every civilian would submit to his brother's orders the house patriarch had looked disappointed, but quickly accepted the opportunity to question Edmund about everything between heaven and earth. Was it hard to run a kingdom? How old were they when they were crowned? Was it true Edmund had once betrayed his family? Where did on get such fancy riding-boots, not to mention a Talking Horse? Was the sky bluer when looked upon by kings?

At the end Edmund had been ready to kill something, so Phillip had wisely suggested a trot. Edmund deliberately left Hema behind. Only the four Irins and his two knights followed.

"I was afraid something like this might happen." Peter groaned. "We heard them just as we were crossing the mountains into Narnia."

"You what?" It was news to the dark-haired king.

"After the Gryphon took you to Cair Paravel we heard them howling."

Edmund glanced at Keefang for confirmation and frowned when the Wolf gave it in the form of a look. "Well what should we do?"

Peter was at a loss as well. He glanced at the newly arrived Luri house leader and greeted him quietly. The man smirked, barely looking nervous. "How much do we know about them?"

Edmund tried to remember the rapport Vala had given not minutes ago. "They're moving quickly. Not trying to sneak up on us. But nothing they've done so far suggests that they want to attack."

Peter nodded, already knowing their next move. "Regardless, I want some kind of defense in case they try anything." He nodded to Oreius and the Centaur instantly took off. "Judging from their heading I'd say they're coming directly for you." He looked his brother deep in the eye.

"How would they know him from the rest of us?" Romel asked. He had lingered on the fringe of the conversation until curiosity overtook him.

"I don't know. Perhaps you left a blood trail in the forest. We wrapped you up, but something might've dripped and left a scent for them to follow." Peter suddenly felt guilty for not ensuring his brother's care better.

"It helps us that they have a target." Edmund said and nodded for Keefang to join them. "Start moving people back. I want all civilians behind the royal guards." he told the Wolf.

"Oreius isn't bringing near enough. Only a handful." Peter interrupted.

Edmund knew as much and gestured for his soldiers to get to work. A forward line of defense was erected. Heavily armed Narnians with spears pointed outwards, towards the forest. Nomads behind and the kings at the very back on Peter's orders. Only a few seconds after the last man was in place they saw the first Wolf. It burst into the large clearing, panting and haggard, but that wasn't what stopped Edmund's breath.

"Hold!" He stormed forward, having to force Phillip a little. He knew the Horse was very concerned with his safety at all times and very much against riding head first into any kind of situation that didn't severely warrant impulsiveness. "Narnians, stand down." He approached the front of the line where he saw Kanell and Barrow looking at him in concern. They weren't thrilled with their kings' impulsiveness either.

Edmund dismounted Phillip when he saw the little creature atop the Wolf's head. As he watched, more Wolves crashed into the clearing. They all stopped behind the first. It looked younger and scrawnier than the others and Edmund guessed it was unlikely to be the Alpha. And yet it ran at the front of the pack. He stepped closer and as he did his smile ignited. "Peter."

His brother was waiting right beside him with Rhindon out and ready to attack anything that looked the least bit hostile. He stepped up to his brother's shoulder when he saw the Wolves had no intention of attacking. "Spavia?"

The tiny Shrew was perched atop the Wolf's head. "High King Peter, King Edmund," she said loudly as her tiny voice would allow. "I would like to introduce you to Dust." The young grey-Wolf bowed its head and only remembered at the last second that Spavia was sitting on it. With meek puppy eyes pointed heaven-ward he apologized. She only petted his head and smiled.

"Which one of you is the Alpha?" Edmund called.

"I am." A large male made his way to the front. Past Dust, to stand directly in front of the kings. He didn't show an ounce of fear and Edmund could practically feel his brother's non-existent hackles rise. He glanced sideways lightning quick before he smiled calmly at the large Wolf.

"And what is your name, Sir?" Edmund asked. The fleeting look of surprise on its face almost made Edmund grin.

"Rufus." he answered with a glance at Peter.

Edmund knew the Wolf would very likely be drawn to his brother's personality, yet compelled to rebel against it, and decided to use it for his advantage. "Stand down, all of you. Collect your things. We move out in five minutes." He looked at his brother for confirmation. Peter didn't exactly give it, but he didn't overrule it either. Edmund took it as a victory.

As the Narnians cleared back with Oreius, and the nomads began picking up their things, more of the Wolves approached. Edmund looked at each and every one of them calmly. It was unlikely Peter would want them roaming around Narnia while the entire army was in Calormen. So he proposed the only other thing he could think of. "Will you take them or should I?"

Peter's hawkish eyes darted to Edmund's with obvious doubts in them. "What?" Rufus barked. Clearly he wasn't pleased with others making decisions for him. _Like two apples from the same tree_, Edmund thought dryly.

"Well we assume that you did not come here, looking for a fight. So the most logical solution would be for you to join us." He shared a quick, and very small, smile with Spavia. Clearly she had kept her head about her. He also realized that she had most likely wagered her own life against their safe travel into Narnia. "And we assume you had a purpose seeking us out on the way to battle and not simply choosing to stay in hiding until we returned?"

Rufus glanced quickly back at the young Wolf, or perhaps Spavia who was still sitting on his head?

"Also we cannot have you roaming our lands unattended." He took a step forward. He knew body language was everything to Wolves and hoped he exuded calm, patience and confidence.

"What does the _High King_ feel about deserters joining his army?" Rufus asked with a wicked grin. He didn't seem the least bit remorseful, which Edmund felt sure would bring his brother's blood to a boil.

Peter was about to answer when he interrupted. "It's not the High King's decision to make since you will not be fighting under him, but under _me_."

All the Wolves looked momentarily taken aback and Edmund took the opportunity to look to his brother for confirmation. Peter looked surprised, but quickly schooled his expression and nodded. The coolness in his eyes made it clear to Edmund that it would take more than their involvement in one battle to redeem them. "The decision lies with my brother." He stepped forward. "But trust me, Master Rufus. If word reaches me after battle that you and your kinsmen failed to follow his orders the punishment will be swift and severe." He furthermore looked to Spavia. "And I believe you are holding one of our best scouts hostage?"

Rufus looked confounded. Even a little humbled at the commanding sound of Peter's righteous voice. Dust lowered his head to let Spavia down. Edmund couldn't help but smile when she was allowed to hop to the ground and run over behind her kings. The dark-haired king noticed the quick wave she offered the grey Wolf in departure. "We ride for Tashbaan to free our sister." he said clearly.

Like a stroke of magic it was as if all the Wolves stood to attention. At that moment he felt as he had many times before, blessed by Aslan. He could say with the utmost confidence that he harbored no anger towards the Wolves. He often marveled where such levels of understanding came from. There were over forty of them and it was only their good fortune and Aslan's continuing blessings that they weren't there with malicious intentions. Rufus again looked at his brothers and sisters in arms.

"What say you?" Edmund called. "We offer you absolution for your sins against your fellow Narnians by aiding us now." He was very deliberate about not telling them of their betrayal against himself and his siblings. He felt it would only hinder the dealings.

"Not to take it would be most unwise." Barrow growled slowly. Edmund had forgotten he was there, right behind them. Even more surprised was he to discover that the captain had locked gazes with one of the females in the group.

Edmund smelled a good story and made a mental note to question Barrow about it later. "What say you?" he asked again, this time looking very closely at Rufus, the Alpha.

The Wolf huffed in the way only Dogs and Wolves could before he bowed. The rest of the pack did as he without thought or hesitation. It seemed they were all ready to be forgiven. And it seemed Edmund would be the one to give it to them. "So be it." He nodded and turned away with his brother at his side. Not until they were a bit away did he speak. Peter had been uncharacteristically silent so far. "Peter?" His voice was smaller than he would've liked. His brother had a presence that easily humbled him, simply walking by his side.

He stopped and Edmund stopped with him. "I commend you for your great heart." His voice was soft as well. "I could not have done it."

He had slipped into formal speech and Edmund could feel his heart pounding because of it. It was the voice of disappointment that Peter so desperately tried to hide. He felt his brother had done wrong by forgiving the Wolves. He also couldn't help but notice the nomads that were all within hearing range. Not to mention the Irins. "I'm sorry for talking like that." He found it hard to look up all of a sudden.

Peter's firm, but gentle hand reached out and pulled his face up. "Never apologize for being Just." He smiled and tricked one from Edmund as well.

"What _would_ you have done?" It didn't matter in the slightest. The war was approaching and the decision had been made, but every bone in Edmund was peaked with curiosity and awe. He blamed his place as third in the family. It was hard being a younger sibling. One could always find reasons to forgive and even admire one's older siblings.

Peter sighed and glanced in the direction of the Wolves. Barrow was speaking with them about the travels that lay ahead. "I don't even think I would've given them the chance to speak."

Edmund's eyes widened a little and he inched closer. Molding himself after his brother's slightly defeated posture. "Of course you would." He believed that with every inch of his being. "You would've armed every creature with hands, but you would've shown mercy had they asked." Even if his brother didn't know it, Peter was the most empathetic person in the world. Only outdone by Lucy. "The young one, Dust, would've looked at you with his big eyes and you would have thought of me." He smiled and felt his joy bubble when Peter smiled as well. He slapped his older brother's shoulder.

Peter put his arm around Edmund's shoulders and ushered him along. "Will you not come up and ride with me? I miss talking about the wretched suitors and awful fish-cakes Mrs. Beaver insists on making every time we visit."

"Can't you speak with Oreius?" Edmund really had no valid reason for not joining his brother at the front. They were both equal as kings. But it felt wrong for some reason. He felt compelled to stay with the nomads. Even despite Hema's infuriating questions.

"Every time I mention something I even remotely dislikes he offers a philosophical counter. The man is like a well of patience and not even _I_ can frustrate him any longer." Peter noticed his brother's amused huff with a grin. "You're the only one who seems even _remotely_ capable of still annoying the old codger."

"Peter," Edmund quietly admonished. If their general heard them talking about him, he wouldn't get mad. He would most likely become very disappointed or take his revenge on the training grounds. "He has ears everywhere." he whispered conspiratorially.

Peter let out a real laugh. The likes of which hadn't been heard for what seemed like months. And Edmund knew that even if Oreius heard them speaking of him, that laugh would have made the Centaur smile. "We'll speak in Anvard." Peter threatened.

They spotted Phillip, looking impatient. He was swishing his tail hither and thither. It wouldn't be long before he started stomping his hooves. Romel, Archer, Thale and Valera were perched atop their horses, also waiting for their kings to mount up. "Speaking of Anvard," Edmund suddenly remembered. "Do you have eyes on the twins?"

Peter actually groaned and for a second managed to chase away the fear they all felt for their sister's life. "The little blighters are worse than you in the morning."

Edmund laughed as well then. He noticed the Irins raise their brows and even crack a smile here and there.

"Don't be so damned happy. I'm sending them your way until we reach Anvard. Then they're King Lune's problem."

Edmund, still smiling, mounted with a boost from his brother. "Fine. Send them down. I've rather missed them to be honest."

Peter smiled and petted Phillip when he let out a discrete, frustrated puff of air. "They do grow on you, don't they?" he asked fondly.

"So does fungus," a snide voice interrupted and made Edmund snort. Phillip stomped of his left foreleg to accentuate the point. It seemed the steed was as impatient to get moving again.

Peter looked at his brother in surprise with Edmund sporting the very same expression. With a snort both kings burst into giggles. They agreed to send the twins down to the Just King for a while. Peter headed back to the frontline with Oreius and Barrow close behind.

The twins were waiting patiently atop their horses when Edmund passed them at the head of his party. Hema had been politely pushed back by Romel and Valera, taking up flanking positions on either side of Phillip. They too moved back to allow the twins to ride next to the king. "We're not that far from Stormness Head and the Blue Mountains," Corin commented after a few seconds of silence.

Edmund had to give him credit for keeping his mouth shut for that long. "We'll be passing around the eastern side of it to reach Calormen."

"Familiar lands." Romel rumbled softly behind them.

Edmund glanced back out the corner of his eye and smirked. He remembered the trail that led around the mountain very clearly. He hadn't been there for some time, but the feeling of cold gravel under his hands was one that would never leave him. "Heading _south_ this time." He said in answer. He saw Romel flash a quick smile before the Irin looked away. He wondered briefly how it felt for the Irins to be leaving Narnia in such an official manner. With friends at their backs instead of enemies.

"What happened?" Corin asked.

Edmund's smile vanished and he looked away. "It's a long story. One meant to be told just before bedtime in front of a roaring fire."

"It's been ages since anyone's told us _bedtime_ stories." Corin huffed.

Edmund saw Cor smirk beyond the prince. "The horror." Though his voice was quiet it still made both boys giggle and Edmund smile. "I will let you know that my skills as a storyteller are only outdone by that of my sisters."

"So we should get _them_ to tell us?" Cor asked in his quiet, cheeky voice.

It made Edmund laugh to hear the usually quiet boy jest. "They only know part of the tale." It occurred to him that he only knew part of it himself. He didn't know what his siblings had felt in the weeks he had been missing. His smile had now completely faded.

"We'll get her back, King Edmund." Cor said in a calm voice. Not quite like before, but strong.

Edmund looked up with slightly brighter eyes. Both boys looked so sure. It was easy to forget they were still only children sometimes. It filled him with an unexpected sadness, and he realized that it was probably what others felt whenever he or one of his siblings acted beyond their years. It was tragic to see such seriousness in such young faces. He nodded and tried to smile, but found himself unable. The momentary joy had been banished. Phillip wordlessly reached back and nibbled the toes of his boots in silent comfort. He had no idea how much that simple act helped.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> A light, little one as we make our way towards Calormen.


	29. Chapter 28: Page of Wands

**Disclaimer: **I own neither the quote under the chapter title, nor the entirety of Narnia and its inhabitants. I own the Irins, but that can only get me so far.

**Author's Note:** As mentioned above, I did NOT write the italics to this one. It's acrtually three lines from a 1940's song called _I'll Never Smile Again_ by Sinatra and Tommy Dorsey. It's a lovely, little tune that's been covered by Michael Bublé. Worth a listen. But for the love of Christ, please hear the original first.

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><p><strong>Chapter 28: "Page of Wands"<strong>

"_For tears would fill my eyes,_

_My heart would realize,_

_That our romance is through."_

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><p>Anvard was Cair Paravel's smaller, darker cousin. With its rough bricks and sturdy walls it looked slightly like a small animal, curled up on the ground. From a distance at least. Up close its walls were thicker than the Cair's. The difference between the two was that Anvard had been built to withstand attacks, whereas Cair Paravel had been built to enhance the natural beauty around it. It was common to make that particular distinction between Narnia and the rest of the world. Humans seemed to carve out their own little corners of the world, whereas Narnians preferred to live as a part of it. To this day Peter didn't even know where the stones from Cair Paravel came from.<p>

His head snapped up when a loud voice bellowed its hello. It was the unmistakably friendly roar of King Lune. "My sons!" He stormed forward with his arms out to grasp both his boys in a crushing hug. The twins eagerly leaped to greet their father and it became clear to all just how homesick they had been.

Edmund understood their homesickness rather well. Though Anvard was smack in the middle of nothing to the untrained eye, it had a certain charm. The wind blew every day of the year and it rained three quarters. The grass was almost always green and the sky was usually covered in clouds. The seasons here were not as distinct as in Narnia. They mellowed out and every season usually brought rainfalls. And yet it was…nice. Homey. He smiled at the king's embrace. He hugged the boys close to him and Edmund suddenly felt a strange longing. His smile faded and he tried to pinpoint the sudden sadness he felt.

His brooding was interrupted when the king dislodged from his sons and ran to greet the Narnian brothers as well. "My Kings!" he called just as exuberantly. Peter smiled as he dismounted with his brother. Both of them were pulled into a similar bone crushing hug. Edmund relished the contact and only pulled back when the king did. All three were smiling, though King Lune's far outdid either of the brothers'. As it dawned on the king why neither brother had much reason to smile, his own faded as well.

"We'll get her back, boys." His heavy hands rested on either side of their necks and lent them both some warmth. "My army is ready to depart as I am prepared to serve you." He nodded. "But come. Before another step is taken we must all rest." At the last sentence his voice rose so it carried to all within hearing range.

"We have about three thousand with us." said Peter as Lune was pulling them back towards the castle.

The king nodded. "We were informed of your numbers. All who can, have beds in the keep. Those we cannot house," All thoughts naturally leapt to the giants and nomads. "have been offered beds with the local folk."

"I think the nomads will pitch their tents." Edmund said.

"And how many are they?" King Lune stopped.

"About seven hundred."

With a slight widening of his eyes King Lune smiled again and beckoned both his sons to him. "Aslan bless us then." He laughed. "We're hospitable, but I fear there's not even that many beds in the cities around us." He tenderly clapped his sons' shoulders. "But come. Rest you must. A long journey behind you and a long journey ahead of you." He walked towards the castle.

Peter followed, but stopped when his brother didn't follow. "Ed?"

"I just want to make sure everyone is taken care of."

Peter nodded. "Do you need my help?"

The younger brother allowed for a fresh smile before he turned. Peter huffed and proceeded into the castle. A bath and a bed sounded very good to him just now. Besides he noticed the four Irins standing just a bit away, waiting for Edmund. He would be safe.

Edmund tapped Romel to follow. He found the nomads beyond a small hill and discovered for the first time what seven hundred people in tents looked like on an open field. It was a sea of brown skins and camp fires. This time tomorrow everything would be covered in mud, especially if the clouds delivered the rain they seemed to be promising. It took him a while and he had almost given up, before he found the one he was looking for. He hadn't dared to venture into the camp area, but had chosen to look for Zoren on the crest of a hill.

It was Thale who spotted him. "There."

True enough, in the midst of all the crowds, they saw Zoren helping his wife prepare a meal. Edmund spearheaded, nimbly keeping out of everyone's way. It seemed most of the nomads planned to wait here when the army left. Edmund estimated that more than half of the nomads were women and children. He knew most of the men would fight and wondered if any of the women would as well. He stopped just outside Zoren's camp as etiquette dictated and waited for the patriarch to spot him.

"King Edmund." Zoren's smile seemed to lift the mood of everyone around. "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be in the castle with your brother?" He came over and shook Ed's hand.

"I wanted to make sure everyone is taken care of."

"More than!" Zoren praised and raised his arms to the heavens. "Aslan provides what we need." A clap of thunder echoed in the distance and promised a mighty storm later tonight. "Rain will fall and those who remain will have plenty of drinking water. Animals will revive and we will have plenty of wild game. The king has granted us permission to hunt in the nearby woods."

Edmund so easily forgot that this was home to them. To feel so at ease in the open like this. It blew his mind that anyone could get used to it, much less love it. Not that he minded traveling, much the opposite in fact, but he always felt a rush of excitement when he saw the Cair.

"Good afternoon, my King." Miriam greeted before she returned to her work. Edmund nodded and smiled.

"Will you not join us?" Zoren offered. "We were just about to sit down for our midday meal."

"You're very kind to offer, but I fear my presence is needed in the castle. There are things that need tending."

Zoren nodded. "When will we be departing?"

"Tomorrow. Midday."

The patriarch nodded and fell silent again. His eyes roamed around his camp before they once again settled on Edmund. "Surely there is a reason for you visit?" he asked tentatively.

Edmund nodded and looked around. "I was hoping you would deliver a message for me?" This was news to the Irins who all looked to the young king in curiosity. Zoren nodded. "Will you give Whillam Luri my thanks?"

"Of course, but for what, Sire?"

"For coming to our aide." Edmund noticed that a couple of the other nomads looked surprised as well.

With a gentle smile Zoren promised again to deliver the message and bade goodbye when Edmund took his leave. He told Romel and the other three that rooms had been made available to them in the castle, but that they were free to stay if they so pleased. Romel declined without a word, and by simply following Edmund back. Phillip was waiting for them outside the massive camp area where they had left him. "What took you so long?" He stomped his hoof impatiently. "Well? Stop lollygagging. Up we go."

Edmund mounted with an amused smile.

The Irins mounted their own horses as well and followed in their king's wake, back to the castle. In the courtyard Phillip was taken to an open stable booth since he was a Horse. The Irins said good evening and went their way. Edmund hurried to his room where a hot bath was unexpectedly waiting. He smiled when he realized it was most likely his brother's doing. He undressed and allowed the hot water to warm him up.

It was almost an hour, after falling asleep in the tub, when his door opened. Three giggling ladies entered with sponges and more hot water. Having become quite accustomed to this particular service, Edmund simply smiled. The girls were his age if not a little older. Each one wore a white towel around her head. And each of them was smiling like she had just found a pot of gold. It had taken him quite a few visits to Anvard to appreciate that form of catering.

But appreciate it he now did. He offered each of them a smile before he leaned forward and allowed them to scrub his back and massage his sore muscles. Peter and Edmund both enjoyed the royal showers in Anvard, after both having gotten used to them. They knew their sisters received the same luxurious treatment, but knew that the girls could never appreciate it quite as much. They were used to ladies, catering to them. The older they became the more Edmund and Peter realized how alluring women really were.

He chuckled when he remembered the first time he had been so rudely interrupted in the midst of a shower here. One of the girls was in the process of scrubbing his back while another was rubbing his sore feet. All the while smiling shyly. The kings had even considered hiring massage girls in Cair Paravel, but reconsidered when they realized the difference between a young woman loosening their sore muscles, and a Faun rubbing their naked backs. It had led to a very awkward afternoon.

But at that moment none of these thoughts actually lingered in Edmund's mind. He smiled joyfully at one of the girls and sat back to enjoy another bucket load of hot water. With the journey ahead this looked to be the nicest evening he would have in a while.

The evening passed as they usually did in Anvard. There was singing and laughter. Food aplenty. But after the meal King Lune, the twins, Peter, Edmund and Oreius convened in a room designed for meetings of a somber nature. The old king looked at his two, surrogate sons. "How do you intend to break into the palace?"

"We're hoping they will welcome us in once we defeat their enemies." Peter said with mock humor in his voice. None of the men present suspected that was going to happen. "What I still don't understand is _why now_? Why provoke an ally into war?" He looked at his brother. "I know you said he's going insane, but even deluded men have reasons. Don't they?" He looked around for confirmation.

"Oh I'm sure they do." Edmund commented darkly. His arms were crossed and he was propped up against a chair, conveniently located in a shady corner. His eyes looked black, Peter thought.

"Perhaps the Tisroc feels threatened?" Oreius calmly offered.

Everyone took it into consideration. "And Jazir's power-play was the straw that broke the camel's back." Edmund concluded in agreement. "But still. The Tisroc wasn't the one who sent assassins to take our home."

Peter hooked onto his brother's thinking like a seasoned specialist, rapidly going over facts and skipping over several conclusions, until reaching the right one. "You think he has more men inside the palace? That he wants to draw us out. Fight us as well?" _Use our sister as leverage_.

Edmund offered a tiny nod in agreement. An idea was taking shape in his mind. He was almost afraid to say it out loud. It would make it all the more real. The thought that had been processed in Edmund's mind also struck King Lune, albeit a bit slower, as he suddenly took the word. "His envy always stretched beyond the borders of Archenland. He has wanted your kingdom ever since the White Witch fell."

Edmund knew this. They all did.

Peter straightened in pride at the thought of his brother's bravery that day.

Edmund caught the fleeting look of pride on his brother's face before he sobered. He frowned. "What troubles me isn't how many men Shehyzan might be hiding." Suddenly he felt ashamed of what he was about to propose. With the plan he had in mind it wouldn't matter how many pawns the Tisroc had. Once you took the king the game would end. "I want him stopped." He looked at all the faces around him. "I think we can all agree that he's sat on his throne long enough."

It dawned on Peter what his brother was suggesting, and to his own surprise he found he quite liked the idea. "Yes, but how does one sneak into a palace with a thousand or more soldiers in it?"

Edmund smiled. "We draw them out. Lure Jazir into the desert beyond the river and make the Tisroc feel safe. Then he'll station his soldiers outside. The palace will be empty."

"What you propose is dangerous." Oreius advised. He wasn't quite able to hide the quick swish of his tail.

"How will you draw Jazir's army away from Tashbaan?" King Lune asked.

"He won't be able to resist the temptation to slay the great demons of the north. I feel fairly certain that all we have to do is show up." Edmund looked at his brother. To use an enemy's hatred made him feel almost bubbly inside.

"Open war." Peter mumbled.

"We knew it was coming." Edmund said in an equally quiet voice. "It was always just a matter of time."

"But who will go in?" Oreius asked.

This was the part that would require Edmund's, by far limited, skills as a debater. "I will."

By the time he spoke Peter had already seen his expression and realized what his brother was about to say. "No!" he barked. The high king crossed his arms just as his brother lowered his.

"What Jazir wants most of all is _you_." Edmund tried. "He won't expect me."

"So your solution is to go in by yourself while your only backup is behind not one, but two, armies?" His voice was a low growl.

"Yes." Edmund kept his body calm. His voice calm. Everything about him exuded _calm_.

"It's suicide! I won't allow it." Peter commanded.

Edmund could tell that the tone was frightening, not only Lune, but the twins, and Oreius as well. They had never seen the brothers in an real argument, rare as they were. Well Oreius had, but he still hated it, Edmund knew. They tended to end badly. "Our sister, Peter." Edmund said slowly. And he knew, he just _knew_, he had won. "Our sister is trapped inside that palace. Cut off from her soldiers most likely. Cut off from freedom." He took a step forward. Peter had yet to argue and was even beginning to look slightly insecure.

"So you'll be the one to sully your name and kill a king?" he stated matter-factly.

"It should be me."

"It should be _me_!" Peter countered and took another brazen step forward. "_I'm_ the one who's suffered through not two, but all three of my siblings falling into the hands of that man and his deranged family!"

First Susan, then Edmund and now Lucy. They were all three very good reasons to kill the Tisroc. Edmund glanced down at the floor, gathering his thoughts. "I'll take Romel and the other Irins. We'll break from the army just as you charge. Slip across the bridge-"

"A Pidgin scout says the bridge has been burned." Oreius interrupted. It was news to everyone and Edmund could see his brother's fury of not getting the information sooner.

"How are we to get to Lucy then?" His voice left little doubt that he was furious. All his emotions were being rekindled just talking about her.

With his sister's name Edmund remembered someone who had helped her in the past. "Prostitutes." He smiled at the befuddled expressions that suddenly greeted him. "Whores." He said by way of explaining. He suspected Peter would realize soon enough whom he referred to. "Our sister has a spy. Zenia-something?"

"Eraniz," Peter cut in. "Or Lark," Lucy had finally told him after the last time they were in Tashbaan. "Lucy calls her Lark." he finished softly.

"Who is she?" King Lune asked. Oreius already knew.

"One of my sister's spies within Tashbaan." Edmund glanced at his brother and prepared to _also_ be the bearer of news that might upset him. "Susan told me she received a note from Lark not long after Lucy was captured." He watched Peter's expression carefully.

"She forgot to mention."

Edmund's softened. "She was very busy and I wasn't in the best state when I was returned home." He picked at one of the buttons on his shirt. "She almost forgot to tell me as well."

Peter relented to the fact that his sister had done an outstanding job of keeping the Cair safe in their absence. It was understandable that one, little fact had slipped. "What did she say?"

"Lark or Susan?"

Peter glared.

Edmund cleared his throat. "The spy wrote that Lucy and her soldiers had been captured. That all communication in and out of the palace had been deemed illegal, and acts of treason. Susan told me no one else knew." Edmund tried to catch his brother's eyes. "That note was the whole reason she began to suspect something was amiss."

This was news to Oreius as well, who first looked very surprised, and then guilty for not being more aware of his queen's troubles.

Peter realized what his brother was saying. Because of one note, not even directly linked to the attack on Cair Paravel, but to the _then_ looming troubles in Calormen, their sister had been made aware that something was wrong. That, because of one spy, their home was still safe. Still _theirs_. His eyes softened as he considered the fate of that spy. He had never met her, but felt a little more in awe of her.

"You should consider the very real possibility that she was caught." King Lune advised sadly and looked at both kings.

Their sad eyes caught each other's. "How can _she_ get us into Tashbaan?" Peter asked after a moment of deciding whether or not to just surrender completely, and beg the Tisroc for mercy. It was his pride that wouldn't even allow him to consider that as an option.

"Not her, but the men she works for might." Edmund answered.

Peter nodded. "Does Susan have some way of getting in contact with them?"

"She still has the pigeon that Lark sent her." The two brothers again shared a troubled look. It wasn't their intent, but they seemed to have excluded everyone but themselves. "I'll write her tonight. Ask her to contact Lark and see if she can arrange a boat across the river."

Peter nodded in agreement. He still hated his brother's plan, but it was becoming evident that it was the safest way of getting Lucy out before anyone thought to hurt her. If they hadn't already.

"We want to join." Cor suddenly said, to the surprise of the older men. The tall boy looked from Peter and Edmund to his father.

"You're too young!" King Lune howled. He was a loud man by nature, and realized as the others already knew, that his sons were no longer intimidated. Well Corin was sometimes, but that was fear of a reprimand after doing something unfathomably stupid. Cor had never been afraid of his punishments. As he said: He had been dealt worse.

"We were thirteen when we fought against Rabadash the first time." Corin proudly announced.

"As I recall you almost got your brother killed during that battle?" Edmund helpfully supplied. He loved the boys, but if the choice was between their favor or the king's, he would choose Lune every time. He would never admit it, but the man scared him as well sometimes.

"We've grown a lot since then." Cor said quietly.

"And you said yourself, I've gotten much better." Corin said to Peter in an almost accusing way.

"It is not my decision to make." the High King calmly answered. He had enough in his own family fights without the need to involve himself in others'.

Lune had gone unnaturally quiet as he studied both his sons. Despite Corin's eagerness he had noticed real improvement in, not only their skills, but their personalities as well. Sometime during the sword-fighting lessons with the Narnian kings and the gentle tutoring of their grandmother they had grown. Not men yet, but well on their way. Their skills were not the main reason he was reluctant to let the join. He had lost one son once. He never thought he would see that son again. He had never admitted to anyone how frightened he was of losing one, or both, of his sons a second time. As he glanced over at the Just King he somehow felt that Edmund knew all this. There was a gentle understanding in his dark eyes.

To Lune's surprise his sons had taken his silence, not as acceptance as they did in their younger years, but as denial. Their faces dropped and their postures slouched. He looked at them and could hardly believe what he was about to say. "You will follow my orders." His loud voice made them both flinch slightly. "You will stay behind my men at all times or I will have you flogged for your folly." He looked hard at each of them. He didn't like the way their confidence suddenly returned. "Do you understand?"

"Yessir." they parroted almost before Lune finished.

He growled and nodded to himself. "Very well then. Consider this your first lesson:" They both held their breaths for his next words. "Go to bed. You have a long day tomorrow!" His yell didn't make them flinch. Cor sagged slightly in disappointment whereas Corin looked just about to argue. The king held up a finger to silence him.

It appeared the youngest prince knew when not to press his luck, and obediently followed his brother out of the room. When the door closed behind them King Lune looked up at the two kings. They were both smiling. "What?" he barked. "Would you have me tie them to their beds?" He looked at Oreius as well just so the Centaur didn't feel left out. As usual his face was rather expressionless. "I think we all know they would have followed even if they had to charm one of those gypsies and sneak aboard a wagon." He gestured loosely in the direction of the nomads. With a snort and a tug of his jacket he silenced.

"So," Edmund let his eyes glide from Lune to Oreius. "We have a strategy?"

"We will come morning, King Edmund." Oreius hummed. To his king he offered a slight smile and bent over the maps in front of him. As his calloused finger trailed out the fledgling stages of a battle plan, the three kings moved in closer.

The quiet council lasted far into the night.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> This one was a nice detour from the stuff I seem to like writing. The endless traveling has for one night been replaced with a warm bath and a nice characterization (at least I hope you think so) of King Lune. Next one gets the Narnians closer to their sister still.


	30. Chapter 29: The Sun

**Disclaimer:** I don't own.

**Author's Note: **The intro is mine. It came from listening to Antonio Pinto's "Car Crash" and eating my way through a bag of salted chips. Please, if you're not thirsty after reading, at least take a moment to appreciate the weirdness. I'd tell you to get a glass of water ready, but I really have no idea if it will even affect you?

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><p><strong>Chapter 29: "The Sun"<strong>

"_A drink to quench even the deepest of thirsts. Liquid rippling over an edge. The sizzling pop of a bottle being uncorked. Champagne, spilling onto the floor. But instead of drying out it continues. As if from a waterfall. It glitters and makes your mouth water. Crystal, the way it sparkles. The memory of it on your tongue. That metallic taste that sates the only thing you can think of. Water. The sweetness of it after a long day without a taste. The memory of it as it flows over your tongue. Soothing. Every taste coming to life. Metal. As if you can __taste__ the coolness. Water._

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><p>The heat was stifling. The sun was baking every inch of the land where the Narnian soldiers glumly stepped. The nomads were more or less accustomed to these temperatures, but for most of the Animals the heat was hindering them. Those with thick coats of fur particularly. The Gryphons and Eagles soared high above them all in the cooler air currents and watched helplessly as their brothers and sisters strode across the scorching sand.<p>

In Anvard victory had seemed so sure. Now it would be a miracle if everyone made it across the desert alive. Edmund huffed into the stale heat for the seventh time and wiped his brow. Sweat was dripping from his body. It was unusually moist for this time of year. He had noticed several miles back that Phillip had begun huffing and sweating as well, and had decided to dismount. His brother and everyone else on horseback soon followed his example. Edmund wondered if they might need Lucy's healing cordial before the war even began. Susan had given it to them and it was currently in Peter's possession, securely strapped to his belt. They had made very sure that no one was made aware of its existence. Only the Narnians and King Lune knew of it and they weren't lightly to spread the word.

"Who's that?" Cor asked with his pale eyes fixed on a group of people far away. They were but specs on the horizon.

Edmund gazed into the sky and saw that none of their scouts acted startled by them. So he made an assumption. "Probably pilgrims." He looked back in the direction of the small group.

"They're traveling north. To the Stone Table." Peter added. It was a common occurrence. In the years since Jadis people from all over the world had traveled to the place where Aslan was resurrected. Narnia benefited from the tourism. Edmund would gladly admit that they had ignored rumors of Calormene invaders several times when he believed them to be pilgrims. Some Narnians felt strongly about strangers befouling the sanctity of the Table and so often claimed that the visitors were slave traders. After numerous times of riding out with the intent of arresting slave traders only to find pilgrims the kings and queens had assigned some of their most loyal subjects to keep eyes on the area. Since then they never acted unless word came directly from one of those subjects.

"Aslan, how much longer?" Corin interrupted. He was sweating profusely, fidgeting with his armor every other second.

Edmund decided to ignore him and allow him his complaining. It _was_ dreadfully hot. Instead he turned to Cor again. "I see Aravis is with us," She was further back with King Lune and his men. She was one of the few still on her horse. A palomino mare. She seemed as perfectly at ease in the heat as her horse did.

Cor sighed and Edmund couldn't help his smile. "Troubles in paradise?" He didn't know why but this romance between Cor and Aravis intrigued him.

The crown prince sighed again and glanced back at the young woman. There had been rumors about them being betrothed, but other rumors suggested that one of them had reacted strongly towards the very suggestion. "I'm surprised she came along." Cor admitted quietly.

Edmund nodded. "She ran away from home didn't she?"

"Yes. But I guess now that she has my father's favor she feels safe returning again." he said quietly.

Edmund felt sad that the young man never seemed truly happy. In the back of his mind he wondered if perhaps it had something to do with Aravis or his violent childhood. "Perhaps it's not her father's favor that gave her the courage." A drop tickled him as it rolled down the length of his back.

He knew the young prince understood when the two looked closely at each other, and Cor then smiled. Edmund reached over and clapped his back. "She loves you, Cor. There can be no doubt about it." The Crown Prince smiled again and Edmund allowed the conversation to vanish like grains of sand in the wind.

Suddenly a signal sounded above and he saw in the distance the first oasis.

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><p>Lark went to the cage and whistled softly. The pigeons flapped their wings and began flying around when she threw the first handful of grain. She looked up when one pigeon suddenly caught her attention. It was the same grey color as all the others. The same size. Nothing remarkable, were it not for the dark red ribbon around its leg. She caught it on its perch and pulled the note from its leg. As she read it her breath froze in her chest. Her mouth opened and her body began to tremble.<p>

The letter was from Queen Susan. Lucy was indeed captured and Narnia had been attacked. The Tisroc most likely planned to kill Lucy along with as many Narnian soldiers he could. But a plan had been forged. The king, Edmund the Just, would venture into the castle once the Tisroc's soldiers had been drawn out, and save the queen. All he needed was safe passage across the river.

Lark re-read the note and then tore it up. She went to her mother's kitchen and threw it into the fire. She then left to visit the Agrippa brothers. She found them in one of their own bath houses, discussing a future business arrangement with a wealthy Tarkheena. As she was waiting for the brothers to see her she had her first moment of doubt.

Could they be trusted? Would they help? She rose to her feet when they entered the room. The youngest held out his arms with a smile and welcomed her as if she was family. "I bring news from the north." she said and accepted the cup of tea he handed her.

Idris huffed and finished his with just two gulps, reaching for the pot to pour again. "Why should we care what goes on in the north?"

Tano, his older brother, looked at him with a stern expression. "We should _care_, Brother, because what affects the north affects the south."

Lark allowed them their interaction without raising an eyebrow. Tano refocused on her with a calm smile. "What news have you for us, Zaira?"

"The unrest in our streets never quite seems to reach the river banks." She had noticed that the most trouble occurred in the center of the city. Where the nobles lived. She had also noticed more men than usual in the traditional black gowns, preferred by the traditionalists, come to the pleasure houses.

"Cool water eases most burdens picked up in the desert." he said and sat back with his arms spread as if the river was his to command.

"What if trouble was soon to find you regardless of the river?" she asked and watched both reactions carefully.

"Speak plainly, Zaira." Idris demanded.

"The kings ride south to kill the Tisroc." She held her breath and awaited their reactions. When they finally came they were welcome, but also quite unexpected.

Tano Agrippa slapped his knee and let out a loud laugh. "Finally!" Not only did he believe her, but he was thrilled. That was high treason, she realized, and feared they might be luring her into a trap. A second later she also realized it was impossible to remain silent.

"One of the kings requires safe passage across the river in order to enter the palace."

"To rescue his sister." Idris said. The younger brother hadn't yet questioned on how Lark knew this, but his brother suddenly turned suspicious.

Lark stared forced herself to look away from Tano. "How do you know of Queen Lucy?" she asked Idris.

"Men can be persuaded to speak with as much as three Crescents." He smirked at her. "But women, on the other hand…" His smile widened. "Need no such trickery." Tano was still dead silent and she could see the wheels churning in his mind. He was quickly realizing that she was no ordinary woman.

She clenched her hands on her thighs and watched each man carefully. The younger brother was little more than a boy, but his brother had seen war. He was once a soldier in the Tisroc's army. Only because Idris had begged him had he returned. She realized then that despite all the differences there was one point where the Agrippa brothers were very much like the kings. "They come only for her and to settle their debt with the Tisroc, Tash-bless-him." She leaned forward and picked up the small glass of tea. "What would _you_ do for your brother?" she asked Tano directly. She froze when his face paled and his body tensed.

"What will you have us do?" he asked in frustration. Anger was vying for supremacy, she could tell. "Make one false move and our lives are forfeit, not just to the Tisroc, _may-he-live-forever_, but to the Narnians as well." His blessing sounded more like a curse.

"The Narnians will not abandon you." she said with as much conviction as she could muster. Setting the tea down again she sighed and decided to put her trust in them. "For some years I have become close friends with a woman from the north."

"The duchess," Idris smirked.

Lark knew the young man had a good eye for the queen. He had no idea that his fantasies would not only never come true, but quite possibly also draw the wrath of her two brothers. "The _duchess_ is Queen Lucy." she bit out, instantly condemning his tone. Both brothers again paled. The youngest sat straighter and the oldest leaned his arms on his thighs, as if too weary to support himself.

"Then we are dead." whispered Tano.

Lark leaned forward and almost grabbed his hand, but remembered her place. "No. She knows you." He huffed while Idris glanced hopefully at his brother. "She believed she could trust you. Believe _me_, had she not I would never have come here." Tano looked up and met her eyes. "All they need is a ferry across the river at the crack of dawn two days from now. No one will follow them. No one knows this plan besides myself."

"If our involvement reaches the Tisroc I will die and my brother be imprisoned." Tano said. "I cannot take that risk."

"Please, Tano. I beg you. If you have so many qualms with the Tisroc then take a stand! Join Jazir and set fire to the streets or join the _Narnians_." She glanced at Idris. "They do not wish to lay waste to all of Calormen. They want a truce with a ruler they can trust."

The brothers shared a look. "If words gets out that we do business with the 'demons of the north' our business will die."

"They will not let it." She leaned forward to look both of them in the eye. "They keep their friends close." As she said this, Idris realized, as had his brother, that one of their own prostitutes had been a Narnian spy for an untold number of months. He then realized that never once had they suspected anything. They looked at each other.

A smile spread across Idris' face. His brother soon followed with a lesser one. "Better friend than enemy, I guess." Tano then said and held up his tea glass in toast. Lark drew a sigh of relief and joined.

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><p>The halls of the Tisroc's palace had gone eerily quiet. The silence had begun in the throne room and in the lush smoking lounges where the nobles used to sit. It had spread like a snake through the palace until it reached the rooms that were now empty expect for the solitary slave that cleaned them. Further along the snake crept as nobles, who were too old, too weak, or too fat to fight, fled. It had slithered, its forked tongue instilling fear into the hearts of everyone, until it had free reign throughout the palace. Until the kitchens had emptied and the gardens had been drained of life. Until doors were left unlocked because there was no longer anyone to guard them. Until the Tisroc only had one servant left to call his own. And until even <em>that<em> servant vanished.

Shehyzan's threats had run dry and his promises were no longer convincing. His soldiers were outside the gates now. Striking down all who crossed their path within the capitol. Be they rebels or not. His sons had died by the hand of his oldest son. Only one had survived and escaped.

He looked through the empty room and realized he was now truly alone.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> The preparations come to an end. Onto the next one with no delay, whatta ya say?


	31. Chapter 30: The Wolf and the Fox

**Disclaimer:** Read previous.

**Author's Note:** Another one because you guys are awesome. And Nitghttohisday, if I'm a superstar does that make you my groupie? The intro is self-made. Welcome. The war begins.

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><p><strong>Chapter 30: "The Wolf and the Fox"<strong>

"_I see much. The mighty King with his greed and the sly Knight with his wit. The greater of the two might seemingly have enslaved the lesser, but which is the real master? The King who knows not the lay of the land, or the sly Knight who walks the streets and knows every corner of darkness? Heed these words: Was I to place a bet I would wager on Sir Knight."_

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><p>The pale desert sand rapped against every exposed patch of skin. A wind was picking up, but scouts reported an all clear. No sand storms seemed to be rolling in. Edmund asked them to fly higher, check for rain and thunderstorms. They had yet to return. The downsized party was walking along the edge of the barren desert and the rocks that followed the shoreline. They had mostly traveled through forests in Archenland, but ventured further east when the scenery began to change. When trees became smaller and the soil became sandier.<p>

A Gryphon screamed high above them and drew Edmund's eyes to a silhouetted flicker in the distance. A pigeon was flying with the sun at its back, heading straight for the group of Narnians. It was evening. The nomads had been sent inland under Lune's command while Edmund, Peter, the Irins and a small host of Narnians headed further south. Towards the capitol.

The pigeon landed calmly on Edmund's arm. He held up his free hand to let the bird peck a few seeds from his palm while he removed the letter on its leg. He handed the bird to a Satyr and proceeded to read the little note.

"What does she say?" Peter asked, taking a step closer to his brother. He looked radiant with the sun casting sparks across his armor.

Edmund allowed for a quick smile. "She says yes." He turned fully to his brother. They now had a way to get into Tashbaan and a plan of how to get their sister back.

Peter looked into the ominous sky to the north. "Do you think we can make it back to the army before nightfall?"

"Honestly, your Majesty, those storm clouds worry me more than the threat of night." the Gorilla, Thronglod, announced glumly. Thronglod was the oldest of his family, the silverback, but still enlisted in the civil army. He had once been captain of an entire battalion of Monkeys in the royal guard. These days he only fought when his kings or queens really needed him.

Peter nodded into the northern sky. "It would appear that the Great Desert is about to see its first rainfall in over four decades."

"Five actually," Edmund corrected. "The last time it rained in, or near Tashbaan was before Shehyzan." Something lit up both brothers' eyes just as he said it.

"He won't know how to fight in the rain." Peter finished with something positively hungry in his voice. The brothers shared smiles as the first rumble echoed hundred miles away.

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><p>The spires of the Tisroc's palace rose into the air like spears of gold. The domed places of worship billowed out like massive bubbles several places throughout the city. Each one plated with costly silver. From a distance they looked as though they were already on fire, though the rampaging anarchy that burned the streets helped. The army was at the High King's back. His brother and general at his sides. They had forgone the usual preparations before heading into battle. Because both kings felt short of time the healers were only now preparing to admit the injured that would soon fill their tents. Making camp away from the battle, behind several rows of defense.<p>

Peter was still in high spirits about the coming storm. It appeared Aslan was on their side and somehow he felt it fit his own mood. To have the very sky agree with him was like no drug known to man or creature. He felt reaffirmed in his decision.

Edmund pulled his Irins aside to speak with them about their plan. Peter hoped they would stay with Edmund despite still feeling hostile towards Romel after what happened in the Air Castle. It was near unforgivable that he had let one of his own assassins almost kill Ed, but he hoped they had learned their lesson and would not let the Just King get that close to death again. He also hoped that Lucy's soldiers were still alive and would protect both his siblings. That one wish burned deep inside him.

It dawned on him that much of the battle was based on what-if's and hopes. He _hoped_ Jazir wouldn't find a way around the army to the healers. _What if_ the tram that was supposed to carry his brother across the river never showed up? He _hoped_ Lucy was still unharmed. _What if_ the Tisroc didn't send his men out of the palace? He knew he was right, had to be in all aspects, but with no solid proof and his siblings' lives on the line he found himself getting more and more worried despite the storm that followed him like a hand on his shoulder. The litany that now kept him company was one of constant pleading with Aslan. _Please let my sister live. Please let me bring both of them home alive. Please let her be ok. Please let my brother succeed_.

"Are the men in place?" he asked his general.

Oreius nodded somberly. "King Lune awaits your command, Sire. The nomads follow him. The civil army will follow me and _I_, my King," the young man gazed up at the tall Centaur. "I will follow _you_."

"I wished you could follow my brother as well." Peter sighed into the rising sun, thinking of the Wolves that would flank Edmund as they cut through Jazir's army. Peter had donned his royal armor instead of the ruby colors of the rest of his men. The gold-plated chest plate shone in the predawn like a beacon. The gilded helmet would surely catch the rays of the sun the second it hit the sky. Exactly as it was meant to. It even sparkled when there was _no_ sun. It was supposed to make him visible for miles and draw the hungry eye of Jazir Tarkaan. Hopefully that of the Tisroc as well.

The rainfalls they had expected during the night had never come, but the clouds still loomed in the sky. Thick and heavy. He hoped they would arrive in time for the battle.

He looked over at Edmund who wore colors he never had before. Ones to make him invisible in the midst of his men. He had exchanged the ruby tunic and gilded lion with a brown jacket that covered a mail shirt. Twin swords crisscrossed his back and the Centaur-forged one hung from his hip. Peter clutched Rhindon nervously as he watched his brother return with the Irins. He gave a small nod as the answer to Peter's unasked question. They would protect him. The High King looked at Oreius. "Are you ready, General?"

The Centaur nodded and followed his king when Peter turned, taking a flanking position to guard both brothers. As they reached the last outpost, before a straight line to Tashbaan, they saw for the first time what three thousand soldiers looked like. This truly was the grandest undertaking any of them had ever accepted. Only outdone by the war against Jadis, and even then not in size, but in fierce beauty.

Peter looked over his troops and spotted the Archenlanders easily. In their midst King Lune and his sons sat atop their horses. His eyes slid past them to take in the sight of several hundred nomads. All of them were archers out of necessity and knew how to wield a bow. Only a few knew how to handle a blade. Those few had been posted with Lune, on Zoren's stallions, as the third line of defense for the healers' camp.

Oreius would be at the very front with Peter, charging head on. Every Narnian, royal army or not, would follow their king. Lune would charge from the east to draw the soldiers away from the ruined bridge. Peter wondered how long it would take for Jazir to get his men across the river and if all of them were within the city walls. He hoped not. It would take too long. With a final nod to his general he mounted and looked over the gathered.

He spotted Narnians and nomads. Archenlanders and outlaws. Even the Wolves of the Wild were present. Standing straight in front of a group of giants. "Friends," he called. Everyone was already standing to attention so it wasn't too difficult to draw their eyes. "Today we march for war. I will not ask you to falter your courage, nor will I command you to stay. You are all free, be you Narnian or not." He caught Zoren's eye and the calm nod he sent. "You do not march for glory. You do not fight for the love of our God, or for freedom on this day." His horse whickered nervously and stomped its hoof. "You stand here today for _us_." His last word sent a ripple through many non-Narnians. "You stand here to save my family. To save one woman." He looked around and suddenly felt a deep uncertainty. Had he the right to ask this? "A woman we all love." He knew everyone who had ever met Lucy could claim little less.

But this also wasn't a beautiful thing. This was death and rage and blood. This was not a highbrow speech he could give in good conscience, but with a glance at the northern sky he refocused. "Our first target is Jazir. We will draw him from the river and offer my brother the chance he needs to cross it." He looked at Edmund and saw the same expression he had always seen before a battle. Unbridled pride. "We must not allow Jazir to slip around our forces for behind him lies an even greater threat." He took a deep breath. "The Tisroc of Tashbaan _will_ attack us. He will come for us when he believes he can win. When we appear most weak." He looked each man within range deep in the eye.

Several looked afraid. Cor and Corin kept looking at each other with mixtures of fear and trust. The Animals all seemed to be gathering themselves for the task required of them. Some were stomping, others kept whimpering or yowling. King Lune would no doubt rile his own men into the frenzy that allowed such ruthless acts to take place. Peter regretted it had to be done. And suddenly the certainty he had felt was ripped completely away and left only a black abyss. "For Queen Lucy," he whispered as a northern breeze floated past him and brought with it the smell of lightning and thunder.

"FOR THE QUEEN!" Edmund suddenly roared next to him.

Every single being present answered with their own yells or roars. Most of the Horses, Centaurs or Animals reared back on their hindlegs as madness filled them. Amidst the violent outbursts Edmund steered Phillip over and grasped his brother's shoulder.

Peter pulled him closer to rest his forehead against Edmund's. He closed his eyes when they touched. For only a moment both brothers relaxed so deeply that their hearts beat as one. Their breaths came in tandem. They vaguely heard Oreius delegate men to stations. Hooves, feet and paws stomping the packed sand as the wind became sweet with cold, and thunderclouds rumbled above them. The first drops began to fall, settling the sand even further. Making it easier for their horses to move.

"Bring her back," Peter whispered, his eyes still closed.

"I will." Edmund whispered back. He slowly straightened and removed his hand from Peter's neck. The two brothers looked at each other for a moment. The sun had begun to rise below the clouds.

"When I have her I'll leave by the north river. If I cannot I'll take her through the river on the south side. There's a crossing that no one but the Tisroc, his sons and the local washing ladies know about."

Peter nodded and released his brother with a clap on his shoulder. "Then let it begin." He drew his sword and swung his mount around. "To _war_!" He sped up to Oreius and began marching his army into position.

With the Irins beside him and the Warrows behind him, Edmund waited for the entire army to pass before he followed.

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><p>Lark watched impatiently for signs of the small fisherman that had been hired by the Agrippa brothers. There were dozens of them on the river which would work very well for the kings' plans. But closer to the ruined bridge there were also light-boats. Elliptical canoes, designed to shoot through the water for a quick escape into the desert, should the city fall. Or, as she hoped would happen when the Narnian army arrived, to carry the rebels across the river swiftly. She looked to the steadily brightening sky and cursed the brothers for their delay. They should have been here. As the sky began to turn yellow she cursed them again and turned in the direction of their house.<p>

Suddenly a dark figure slid out from a shadow at her back. His arm snaked across her mouth and throat, silencing her. With a look in all directions he pulled her back into the ally.

Lark scratched at the hands that held her when her need to breathe became more pressing. She tried to rip free to no avail. The man held her until spots began to dance before her eyes and her limbs began to tingle. Only when her world turned black did he release her.

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><p>Boats had been lowered into the river a silent as ghosts. Black canoes that slid through the water like knives through butter. The morning mist hid them perfectly to all but those right by the river's edge.<p>

Tano had no doubt that it was Jazir's doing. The former Kahen was venturing into the desert. He also didn't doubt that the Kahen had heard rapports that the Narnians were coming for him, and feared an attack on two fronts. Jazir's paranoia would prove his downfall when he made himself vulnerable to attack from behind, Tano thought.

Idris looked at his brother when there was no sign of their employee. The brothers had arrived at the meeting point later than agreed after a disturbance in one of their houses. They could see a boat gliding softly down the river, but no Lark. The younger brother began to worry they had been deceived. "If this was to draw out the Tisroc's enemies we're dead." he said, without completely hiding the tremor in his voice.

"It was not." Tano answered with his eyes on the river. The fisherman cast a line to the shore and allowed the brothers to climb onboard. "If she's not here, then something has happened and we're safer outside Tashbaan."

"You mean, leave our home? Are you mad!" Idris barked.

"Shh!" The older brother slapped him roughly over the head. "Or do you wish to alert _everyone_ to our comings and goings?" He sighed and considered the thought of leaving his home behind. "Besides. I hear it's better to spend an hour in blessed Narnia than a thousand in Calormen."

Idris pouted and settled on a box. No more was said as they crossed the river, but both worried for their young employee who had not shown up, as they worried for their own lives.

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><p>With banners in the brightest colors Narnia stood tall just outside Tashbaan. Peter's army was clearly visible to the entire city and scouts had already reported that boats were crossing the river. Now it began and they would see if all their plans could be carried out. He turned in the saddle to cast one last look in his brother's direction. He couldn't see anything through the groups of Narnians, humans and nomads. With a sigh he turned.<p>

The call came out and only a few seconds later they saw men gathering on the north shores of the river. Boats kept flowing back and forth until it looked like a mass of several thousand. Peter knew that about half the Tisroc's civil forces had joined, but this looked to be more than two thousand. He swallowed. _Easily more._ Some didn't even look to be soldiers. Some wore civil clothes and he realized with horror that they _were_ just that. Civilians. Not soldiers in any sense of the word, but men and women who believed him to be the enemy when in fact all he wanted was the Tisroc.

Jazir could have leveled the palace for all he cared as long as Lucy was safe.

"This won't be a war." Oreius said too low for others to hear. "It will be a slaughter." He looked at his king and saw his expression mirrored. Both were heartbroken that it had come to this. Both were in doubt for the first time in their lives. As the Centaur realized this he also acknowledged that it was not his place to worry. So with a deep voice, full of confidence, he said: "Had it been either of you, not even the hordes of hell could have stopped us from coming." He felt anger rise in him and knew it to be true. Not a single Narnian among them would willingly let any harm come to one of their sovereigns.

It was a grand feeling, this sense of protection. It was why most became parents. It was why a subject could remain loyal to a king he barely knew. This sense that you were a protector. That you were a guardian. And he realized then the purpose of life. The secret of it. How generation after generation grew. It was all because of this wonderful feeling of guardianship. He looked at his High King with a smile spreading on his face. Aslan was a wise Lion indeed, to have called on Oreius that day many years ago in his dreams. Drawn him to protect strangers after losing his family. Because he now _knew_, there was no greater cause.

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><p>Kafir Nuwe's soldier didn't waste any time in bringing Lark to the palace through one of the hundred secret exit tunnels. The ones only the slaves knew about, the one that had long ago been forgotten by the nobles. The prostitute was brought to the Minister of War and placed on the floor before his feet. He bowed and left. The minister looked down at her with his usually stoic expression. She was a beautiful woman. Nearing old age by Calormene standards, but still with her looks. She was unconscious and he felt a fleeting moment of doubt.<p>

Her fate was sealed if he handed her over to Rabadash. She would be killed. Most likely tortured for information first. And he wasn't so sure he _wanted_ her to speak. But he couldn't let her go either. She was an uncontrolled element. A game piece he wouldn't risk letting loose onto his city now he had her. With a calm inhale he drew a curved knife from his belt. It would have to be quick. While she still lay unconscious he stabbed her in the stomach, through the liver. She would bleed out in less than half an hour. She gave no indication that she felt anything, not even a flinch from the sting of the knife.

He looked at her sadly, and wondered what his punishment for this would be in the afterlife. With practiced moves he cleaned the knife and straightened his clothes. _No._ "This is better." If the choice was between a prostitute and the kings and queens of Narnia he would choose the sovereigns every time. Only they seemed to hold the key to his country's survival. The Tisroc certainly didn't any longer. He had long ago lost control. Not only over his country, but over his own family as well. If a man could not be a father, he had no business being king. The man was no longer fit to rule, but hopefully the Narnians would find someone who was.

He felt quite sure that neither of them wanted the throne for themselves. He had no desire for it either, but knew the nation needed help if it was to keep from sinking.

As a mighty roar sounded from the hordes outside the palace, he turned from Lark's cooling corpse and left the room. He knew Hebu had fled. The only ones left were Rabadash, Shehyzan and the Queen. The king and his son he would leave for the Narnians.

He entered his own quarters and looked out the window at an army in the north. Several thousand soldiers with glittering shields were joined under the gathering storm. It wouldn't be long until the entire desert was transformed to mud. The Calormenes would have no idea how to fight in that. It was the advantage the Narnians had surely hoped for. He smiled as he saw Jazir's general pull their troops further away from the city, leaving their only shelter. His smile widened as the royal soldiers continued to pour from the castle and into the streets of Tashbaan. Even the Tisroc's personal guard had left his side.

They were making it too easy, he realized, as suddenly a vision of the Narnians' plan came to mind. King Peter intended for this all along. For the Calormenes to divide their strengths. Someone would come through the palace, looking for the queen. Making a rash decision, he stormed towards the wing where he knew she was being held. Only two guards remained. Most of the servants had vanished and Bismillah suspected that many of them were in the streets, fighting for Jazir against the nobles. He relieved the guards, though they looked quite tentative.

Then he made sure the door was locked before he headed to a private room next to a hall. He knew the Narnians would pass through there no matter which entrance they took. He didn't even doubt they had a way to cross the army _and_ the river. In the silence that had taken hold of the palace he kneeled and folded his hands. It felt like the end, he theorized. A storm that would swallow up everyone and leave the city an empty husk. While whispering praises to his Lord he lit a candle and a burned a lump of myrrh. He gripped the medallion around his neck and folded both hands around it with his head bowed.

As a boy he had never wanted anything but to fight for king and country. As a young man he had resented those who were cruel to less fortunate ones. He had treasured his king and been more loyal than Shehyzan had deserved. He had slaughtered enemies in his name. He had taken land and punished the sinful. For a short while he had become the champion of those who had no one to stand up for them. As a grown man he had become wiser to the ways of the world. He had begun selling his loyalty to any who could pay when he realized the king was no longer deserving of it.

The day he allowed himself to be cornered by Rabadash was the day he doomed himself. He knew this and felt regret, but also acceptance of what was to come. He realized he would die once the Narnians entered the castle. His life was over, and what a life it had been. He smiled a bit. Though he had many regrets he would not have done it differently. He had always been a soldier and now he would die as one. It seemed fitting.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> The opening act. More to come tomorrow. How was it?


	32. Chapter 31: Five of Wands

**Disclaimer:** Three things I could bring on an island? My mp3, cigarettes and a signed letter from Lewis that stated I was the owner of Narnia. Two I have. And one other things I don't have is the rights for the title "Annals of kings". That little gem belongs to Ilysia and is the title for one of her wonderful stories. I'd give it a read if you haven't already.

**Author's Note:** You know... I had this apology ready when I killed Arthur and Lauviah in case any of you guys complained (I don't consider the outbursts of disbelief "compalint"). I would say "Well I can't kill off main characters so I might as well kill my own". I may have to edit that statement after tonight :). The italicas are home made except for the part mentioned above. I just realized that you guys are not gonna like very much after the next chapter. Happy reading. Hope it thrills.

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><p><strong>Chapter 31: "Five of Wands"<strong>

"_In the year 1009, The Annals of Kings: A conflict was unavoidable. Trials had to be passed on either side. It appeared then as the end, but was in reality only a change. Change is indeed a constant in the world. Most of the time the changes are so minute that they barely enter our conscious minds, but every so often a change happens that reshapes the face of the world. Such a change was about to occur. A shift brought on by the one they all served under different names. Wisdom was hard to come by in those days. It became easier as years passed after the turmoil to regard the events that occurred with an air of objectivity. Not so easy was it for those who had to make the decisions. Had I been there then I would surely have been without answers for the questions the kings harbored."_

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><p>The battle had begun and Edmund had realized it somewhat belatedly. Despite the drips they had experienced earlier, no rainstorm had appeared. Suddenly there had been a roar at the very front and men near the back had begun to shout. A Sparrow he thought he recognized had landed on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.<p>

"The rebels have attacked and his High Majesty has called the attack. We are charging." And without another word it had taken off.

As he watched it go, Edmund felt surer and surer that he _knew _that little Bird. And it would not be the last time he thought on it, but for the moment it was forgotten. Reality hit him when suddenly the cluster of giants began running towards the battle. Reverberations of heavy feet boomed through the ground. He looked at the Warrows again and gave Rufus a nod to proceed.

In a tight group they rode forth. Their steeds kicking up sand that almost completely hid the Wolves. As they drew closer to the battle the Wolves took up flanking positions around the Irins and Edmund. Rufus' fierce growl was echoed by the others' as they spotted the rebels and Narnians in fierce combat. Edmund allowed his eyes to drift east when a flash of gold caught his eye. His brother was swinging Rhindon through the air, and cutting down every opponent as easy as breath. He drew a relieved sigh when he saw Oreius at his side.

The further into the battle they came the more the Wolves began fanning out. They tackled any obstacles that dared get in the way of Edmund's progress. By the river only half the Wolves were still at their sides. Most had been swallowed by the battle which suddenly took on a whole new look when rain began falling in earnest, shrouding the sun. First the drops became heavier and the denser until it was like moving through a chain curtain. The river was bubbling like a boiling pot and the water was pitch black. An almost perfect mirror of the black skies.

By the shore they spotted one fishing boat among the hundreds of docked canoes. Three people in it. "Stay here until we return." Edmund ordered Rufus as he dismounted Phillip. Before he left he turned to the Horse. "In case our way is blocked on our return we'll take the southern crossing. Tell Peter?" It was looking very likely that they would have to choose option number two.

Phillip nodded, but waited to leave until his king was safely aboard the small boat. Only as they vanished into the rain did he run back to the High King, with orders from Rufus to come find him if anything fell sour on the battlefield.

Edmund greeted the Agrippa brothers with handshakes. Romel, Valera, Archer and Thale presented themselves as well. They fell into silence under the fall of rain. It dampened their nervousness somewhat since one could barely see ten feet ahead, much less spot the boat from the banks. He looked into the skies with a smile. "It appears Aslan is with us." he said to Romel, but it was the elder Agrippa brother who answered.

"Since rain is not common I would almost agree with you, King Edmund. I fear Tash would never consider rain a blessing." He looked at the king a moment before he made up his mind. "Your informant did not join us this morning."

"Lark?" Edmund's smile vanished and worry took hold.

"Zaire, she is called."

He nodded. "Yes, yes."

"She was supposed to meet us before dawn by the river, but failed to show." said Idris.

"We fear she's been captured by the Tisroc. He seems to one most likely to have done it."

Edmund nodded in agreement. It was unfortunate since she was most likely dead. He would've liked to meet her and knew it would kill Lucy once she found out. "Do you have any indications that he knows we're coming?"

"Who, the Tisroc?" Tano asked.

"Yes."

"I do not know, your Majesty."

Edmund nodded in acknowledgement before he turned to the Irins. "We need to move through the alleys if we want to get in without anyone seeing. I have a friend who can get us to the castle, but I was hoping you might know of a way inside?"

"I don't think it'll be a problem, Ed." Romel said. They had to lean close and raise their voices over the rain. "According to you, Peter should be able to draw out the Tisroc's army once he thinks he can defeat you?"

Edmund nodded and wondered how that very convenient and quite elemental fact had slipped his mind. "Yes of course." He frowned and wiped a hand over his face to clear away the water in his eyes. He looked over the river with a frown.

"We'll get in, Edmund." Romel called in his gruff voice through the rain.

He sounded so sure Edmund wanted very much to believe him. It wouldn't be the first time these Irins had butchered their way into this particular castle. They would do it again if necessary.

"We had hoped to ask a favor of you, King Edmund." Tano Agrippa suddenly called.

Ed turned and squinted through the rain. He moved over to where the two brothers were huddled up. "What?"

"Our lives are at risk from helping you. I would like to ask asylum on behalf of myself and my brother." Tano said, hesitant.

Edmund instantly nodded. "But of course. Only for the two of you? No family?"

The brothers were slightly taken aback by the easy acceptance. The king had obviously been prepared for their inquiry. "It is only us."

Ed nodded and took a moment to appreciate the shock he saw on their faces before he turned to Romel. The Irin had just been speaking with the captain of the boat. "How long?"

Instead of answering the Irin simply pointed to a spot behind Edmund. "We're here."

* * *

><p>Rabadash sneered. He had expected this kind of underhanded trickery from the Narnians. It appeared a boat had crossed the river. That, coupled with the ill feeling in his stomach, made him more than a little paranoid. He went to his father's private quarters and found him gazing into the tempest. "Father." He kneeled and waited for Shehyzan to acknowledge him.<p>

"My son." said the Tisroc. "Why has everything gone so quiet?" He could only have meant the innards of the castle because the city outside their windows could hardly be called 'quiet' anymore.

"The last slaves fled when you sent the soldiers outside, Father."

"Hm." He still wouldn't look in the direction of his son. "I hear you killed your brothers?"

Rabadash looked up at the sound of his voice. To anyone but his father he would have boasted. Shouted to his heart's desire about how gullible they were to trust him. But the air around Shehyzan made Rabadash falter. "I….did."

"Hm." the Tisroc uttered again. It was all Rabadash could get out of him these days. It drove him mad not knowing what he thought of it. "The Narnians have arrived." Shehyzan looked deeper into the sky as if trying to find the storm's origin. "It appears they brought the rain with them."

"It will soon end, Father." Rabadash promised. Everything would soon end and then there would only him left to take the throne. Shehyzan would _have_ to give it to him then. He just needed to remove Hebu as well.

"What if I don't want it to?" the Tisroc muttered into the rain curtain.

Those words caught Rabadash off guard.

As if sensing his son's looming questions he continued. "What if I want the rain to wash it all away?" The fires around the city center had all stopped. Somewhere far to the south he could see flashes of sun, but that all seemed so very far away. "I would like you to bury me in Narnia." he muttered tersely.

Rabadash's shock changed to indignation. "What!"

The Tisroc nodded to himself. "I would like to be buried in Narnia." he said again. The request was outrageous. Not only was it absurd for a Tisroc of Calormen to not want his eternal rest in the land of Tash, but even more absurd was it to think the Narnian royals would have him.

"You are the Tisroc! You rule the mightiest empire under the sun!" Rabadash roared.

His father made a disgusted sound. "I never wanted it. The only good parts were the food." He frowned a bit into the rain before he continued. "I never wanted to be married either."

Rabadash's anger became fear.

"All my wives and all my concubines and _you_ are what I end up with…" he muttered with a lazy gesture to Rabadash.

"Father…"

"You're a _disappointment_, Rabadash!" In an instant his mood had changed. "You were a disappointment to your mother and you're a disappointment to me!"

It almost surprised the eldest son of the king how much lung capacity his father still possessed. "I…" For four years Rabadash had felt guilty for something he couldn't exactly identify. Now at the turn of events he realized it was his father's lack of love. He had thought he deserved it. That he deserved the disappointment he saw whenever his father looked at him. The disloyalty from his brothers. All the guilt transformed as it settled in his mind. As he realized he had never deserved the chastisement. That he had always done the best he could. It was all his _father's_ fault!

Shehyzan was still sitting with his back turned, gazing into the black rain. The clouds looked as if they might linger for weeks.

As Rabadash's anger boiled into melted metal, solidified and turned to steel, he realized why his father wanted to be buried in Narnia. He probably wanted to be buried in the rain. It suited him just fine to be the one to grant that wish. "You'll die in your own backyard." he sneered and drew his scimitar before the Tisroc could even turn. With a clean swipe down he almost severed Shehyzan's head clean from the body. The spine was cut, and blood and fluids spilled onto the floor. Rabadash was heaving deep breaths. It felt good. His hands were shaking from the adrenaline and his heart was pounding. He felt alive for the first time in years.

But the anger wouldn't dissipate. He realized there was yet one more problem to address. The Queen, hiding in her chamber. He had left her with the corpse of her pretty spy. His sneer turned to a smile when he considered how hard she had cried after he left. It wouldn't be near as hard as her siblings would cry when he sent her head to _them_ in a box.

* * *

><p>Lucy had turned to the window when her stomach revolted. Lark was staring at her from the floor. Her dead eyes, boring holes into the young queen. She had gripped the windowsill and clung to it when she suddenly saw a flash in the desert. Her brother. <em>Peter<em>. She would've known him from a hundred miles away simply from the way he sat on his horse. Her High King and about three thousand soldiers behind him.

_No Edmund?_ She wondered where her darker brother was, but felt a small measure of hope at the thought that she would soon be able to leave her "cell".

Then the rain had begun to fall. Just as the two armies clashed it had lowered like a grey curtain over everything. An icy wind had blown into her room and she had left the window. But wherever she stood, Lark's empty eyes followed her. Was this what became of her friends? She found her old spot behind the bed and hid there. She could still see Lark's bare feet around the corner, but at least she couldn't see her eyes. And it would take some searching for anyone who entered her room. Not that anyone would come looking unless they intended to kill or save her.

She was no fool. Over the past days the food had become simpler and simpler until it was only bread and milk. By then it had been a soldier who brought it to her. It appeared that all the slaves had left to join Jazir or leave the city before it was too late. She felt some measure of justice towards the Tisroc because of it. Served him right that his threats were no longer enough to bind his people to him. Not like love.

A sudden knock on the door drew her out her thoughts, and she curled in on herself, quickly grazing the knife on her thigh. Perhaps now was the time to use it?

* * *

><p>Edmund hopped ashore with a hand from Thale and quickly helped Valera. The brothers told him they would wait on the boat for their return. Edmund felt a tiny doubt gnaw at him and he ordered them to leave if they weren't back within two hours. To sail to the other shore and inform the Wolves. He couldn't explain it, but he much more liked the idea of crossing the wade-area on the south bank. It made no sense to him, but he thought the feeling might be Aslan telling him something. He would never disregard his Lord and so kept the southern retreat as an option.<p>

"How do we get _to_ the palace?" Archer growled when they had to hide from the second Calormene troop in under five minutes. They were hidden under black cloaks and the violent rain. The alleys were already turning to mud. But they couldn't risk getting caught.

"We get a guide."

"Where! And tell him what? Edmund!" Romel barked, frustration slowly seeping to the forefront. "Ask him if he could please take us to see the Tisroc? We wanna kill 'im."

Edmund pretended to think about it, although he actually thought it quite a good idea. "Something of the likes." He slinked further down the alley with the four Irins in tow.

"I don't know where we are." Valera commented from the back. She was the designated navigator whenever they were inside Tashbaan, Aswaan or Azimbalda's walls.

"I do." Edmund whispered back. He missed the questioning look she sent Romel. Neither of them had any idea of the adventures Edmund had had within this city. Neither would he ever tell them. "It should be right about here."

"What?" Romel hissed.

All five stopped when suddenly a small boy appeared in the alley in front of them. Behind him quickly came another boy. Both looked homeless. Orphans probably. The Just King smiled and stepped calmly up to them. "Five Crescents to the boy who can find me a green apple." he said with a smile. The rain was dripping from his bangs and teeth. He reveled in the bordering on panicked hiss from Archer, but wasn't deterred.

"No one knows where to find green apples?" More boys stepped into the dark alley behind the first two. Most were shivering under the rain and looking quite pitiful. One boy sniffed and wiped his nose.

"But, my Lord, last time you gave me _ten_ Crescents." A boy who was taller than the rest stepped out from behind a wall. He had a glint in his eyes and looked intelligent. "Why has the price changed?"

Edmund appraised him with a smile. He had grown. "Because your fruit ships have begun trading with us after years of absence. Buying more green apples than red. I assumed they were easier to find now." He couldn't quite keep himself from grinning.

"Who is this?" Romel growled. Unbeknownst to the king his hand had snuck onto the hilt of his sword.

"This is Maedjan." Edmund answered and nodded respectfully to the boy. "He knows every alley in Tashbaan." His smile grew. "Don't you?"

Maedjan nodded with a serious look at Romel. "Who are they? We don't like outsiders."

"The pup is an insider?" Archer whispered to Thale, though everyone heard.

"Then you'll like them very much." Edmund glanced back at Romel. "They don't like outsiders either." He pulled out a heavy pouch and shook it. Heavy with far more than five Crescents. "We need to go to the castle."

Maedjan came forth and accepted the pouch. He shook it, as if testing its weight. "By sea or by air?"

"We cannot be seen by the soldiers."

He gave a quick tut-tut before he lured Edmund to follow him, already deeming such a task impossible. The king followed silently with his four guards close behind until all of them were on a sloping roof, overlooking one of Tashbaan's many squares. Without a word Maedjan pointed to the chaos below. Men and women were screaming as soldiers broke down doors and dragged people out by their hair. Civilians were being slaughtered in the street. Their blood, washed towards the river by the heavy rain.

"It's impossible to not be seen these days. At least it is if you venture out into the streets." Maedjan whispered and gestured for the king to follow him back down. "Soldiers are everywhere. They came out just after the rebels left." he said once they were safely back in the alley. The rain was still falling as heavily as before from an ash-grey sky.

"Are there _no_ roads?" Edmund asked with a sigh and a furtive glance in the direction of the square.

Maedjan saw the look of disappointment on the young king's face and took pity. It was more trouble than he usually liked, should they be caught, but since the Just King had already paid him he felt obligated to at least try. He knew Edmund would never even consider taking the money back. Maedjan felt sure the king somehow counted on his sense of honor to make him do the right thing. So he groaned and grabbed him by the armor's edge. "Follow me." He waved the boys back to wherever they had come from and passed the pouch of money to one of them. "Come quickly. Stay close to me."

The five Narnians stepped lightly through the muddied alleys, trying to make as little noise as possible. They stuck to walls and ducked to the ground whenever they saw the hint of another human. After a while Romel was beginning to think the street boy had taken advantage of Edmund's trust until they were suddenly faced with a white wall. The chalked outer walls of the palace.

"Walk right for a few hundred yards, you'll see a door. There shouldn't be any soldiers this far up the levels. They're heading away from the palace for some reason."

Edmund nodded and took Maedjan's hand. "They're hoping to defeat my army."

The boy smirked. "Then they've come a long way for nothing."

Suddenly Edmund fell serious, downright somber. "I meant what I said last time. Should you ever need a home; you or your friends, Narnia welcomes you." He placed a hand on the adolescent's shoulder. "_I_ welcome you."

Maedjan smiled suddenly. "Thank you, your Majesty. But this is my home." He gestured to the drenched streets around them. "Perhaps one day I'll be ready to leave, but not when it is still my city."

Edmund nodded, feeling like he understood. Though the city seemed to be falling apart the boy still had hopes it could be saved. He hoped for Maedjan's sake that was true. "Till next time."

"Till next time." he said and was off without a sound.

Edmund turned and found the Irins staring at him. He frowned and passed them in the direction they had been given. "Some stories even _you_ will never know." He quite enjoyed there were things about himself they didn't know, but Peter did. Lately it felt as though Peter knew nothing about him while the Irins knew everything. It was a little selfish he knew, to hold something back from them, but it made him hope there was still a chance to heal his and Peter's relationship. Nurse it back to what it had become over the last few years. And somehow it didn't seem that much to sacrifice a good story in order to keep his brother.

He rounded a bend in the wall and smiled when he saw the unguarded gate.

* * *

><p>Ashay had become a lord. He had been adopted by Al-Jazir and become someone's son for the first time of his life. To repay his father he would do anything. Even go against every instinct in his fair being and do what he knew to be wrong.<p>

So when Jazir ordered him to the southern crossing outside Tashbaan he complied. He knew they were looking for Shehyzan and Hebu Tarkaan. He also knew what he would have to do once the Tisroc and his son arrived. But they were too late. The son had escaped before the attack began, he realized. And the Tisroc had not been seen for some days. It was rumored that the fat king had barred himself in his room while his subjects were slaughtered on the streets.

Ashay was reminded of the cause for which he was fighting.

They had arrived just as the skies rebelled and water began pouring from the heavens. He heard the war being fought on the other side of the city and wanted to join, but a messenger from Jazir had told him to stay. So stayed he had. The messenger informed him that Narnians had come behind the city walls and were heading to the palace. Al-Jazir would cut off their escape by the northern route and force them to take the southern crossing.

So Ashay hid with his men and waited for the demons of the north.

* * *

><p>Lucy was sitting in her corner when the door opened. In walked none other than Rabadash looking like a mad man. "Has my little queen had time to think?"<p>

She looked up at him with all the hatred she could muster. She refused to answer, to move even. He came and stood before her with his sword drawn. The only light in the room was a tiny lantern behind him and the light that sporadically lit the sky outside.

With a strained grunt he reached down and snatched her to her feet. She let out an involuntary yelp and struggled when his hand gripped her arm tightly. Hard enough to leave bruises. He stilled her with a rough shake and slowly brought the sword up to her neck. "You would be wise to show some respect." he hissed out. "Seeing as _I _am king now."

Whatever protest or mockery she may have had died on her tongue at the news. He yanked her in front of him and proceeded to haul her from the room.

"Let your brothers see what I do to people who defy me," His voice had lost any touch of humanity and Lucy felt a shudder race up her spine. "Little insects." he hissed so fiercely that spittle rained from his mouth.

Lucy shrank in his grip and felt her heart beat furiously in fear. Was this it? Was she to die? Thoughts raced in her mind as she was viciously pulled from the room in which she had spent the better part of a month. The halls around the palace were deserted. Not a soul in sight and only the roar of a storm and a war to let her know that she was not alone in the world. Long forgotten fears rose to the surface and her heart began to beat faster. What had he meant when he said her brothers would see what he did to people who defied him?

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, elsewhere Edmund and the Irins had found their way inside the palace. Edmund could feel something pulling him higher. He wanted to check the topmost rooms. The ones with the best views where nobles usually stayed. He knew his sister would likely be held <em>there<em> and not in the dungeons. The Tisroc was many things, but stupid was not one. He would never be so brazen as to put a queen in the dungeons. Not like he had with himself. Not when he counted on her armies coming to rescue her.

"Archer, Valera. Go check the dungeons and the cellars. Look for Narnian soldiers." he ordered without even looking. It was the first time he had ever given the Irins a direct command and felt comfortable doing so. As it were Edmund noticed nothing but his drive to run higher. Father up. "Romel, Thale, you're both with me."

"What do we do if we find the Tisroc?" Valera asked before she and Archer left to do his bidding.

Only now did Edmund turn. "Kill him on sight." There was not a trace of remorse in his voice. Not a sliver of doubt. The Tisroc had committed a great many atrocities and now was the time for judgment. Edmund had been nothing if not fair. Lenient. But taking his sister was going too far. He saw Valera's nod as she and Archer hurried off without a sound.

"Where do you want to start?" Romel asked. He knew the layout of the palace enough to know he had barely seen a fraction of it the last time he had been there.

"From the top." Edmund looked up the length of a majestic set of stairs and began climbing them. The storm outside continued its raging, now with thunder and lightning mixed in. Combined with only very few lanterns in the palace it made for an eerie setting.

On light feet he led the two Irins higher and higher. He knew this part of the palace. Had been there before, many years ago when Susan had been courted by a handsome, Calormene prince. Back then it had all felt so overwhelming. Now it only reminded him of a tomb. Why Maedjan would hold any hopes for this city was beyond him. He longed for Narnia more fiercely than before. He longed for his sister at his side and added more force to his steps. They reached a magnificent hall, beautified with gold-plating, massive chandeliers and expensive carpets.

He froze when a sound caught his attention. With a gesture he signaled for Romel and Thale to stop. They did and all drew their weapons whilst slowly creeping forward. Another faint scuff from inside a room. Edmund had his Centaur sword drawn, waiting for a sign to attack, when suddenly the door opened quite casually. In it towered a tall and skinny man. Edmund frowned when he recognized him. "Minister," The greeting was not friendly by far. It was closer to a threat really, but the Minister took it with the same ease he did most things.

"King Edmund," He swooped into a low bow before he straightened and revealed that he was unarmed.

"Why are you still here? Why are you not on the battlefield or safe somewhere in Aswaan?" Edmund queried as he stalked closer. He knew the man had a reason for being there still, and wanted to know it.

"I was waiting for you, your Majesty," he answered smoothly and offered a small nod.

Edmund frowned fiercer. "How are you involved in all of this?"

The Minister smiled fractionally, but then seemed to reset his expression in the stone mold that usually fitted him. "I was the one who started the war, your Majesty."

Edmund's frown settled deeper still as the sound of rain, pelting the pane glass suddenly became deafening. "Jazir was the instigator. The _Tisroc_." He spat out the title like a curse.

"They were but instruments, my King."

"I am _not_ your king!" he barked.

Bismillah bowed in indulgence. "As you wish."

At his calm voice Edmund snapped. The delicate string inside him broke and he surged forward with his sword, intent on killing the Minister where he stood. But something stopped him. Morbid curiosity, he would later conclude. Fury ripped through every fiber of his being, burning his skin. Every violent urge at the forefront, all of them pointed threateningly at the Minister of War. "_H-How_?" And yet, he stayed. "_Why_?"

"How," The Minister was still breathing slowly, if not a little deeper. Edmund's sword pressed against his jugular. "How was easy. The unrest was already there. The instability. A country is like its king you see." He swallowed against the steel edge and drew a slim puncture wound.

Edmund knew Romel and Thale were keeping watch and had little focus on anything but Bismillah at that moment.

"When the Tisroc fell ill so did his nation. A change was inevitable. I only cemented it by taking Emman Tarkaan's money. By agreeing to kill Rabadash's brothers for him."

Edmund shivered at the mention of Emman. It had been years since anyone had been bold enough to speak about the miserable, little slave trader in front of him. "Did you take my sister?" he growled.

"No." Bismillah sighed.

"But you didn't free her either."

"No." He looked so settled. So prepared to meet his death that Edmund found himself reluctant to grant his wish, simply out of spite.

With a swift movement he lowered the blade and stepped back. "Why are you here, Minister?" The king had resurfaced in the wake of the fury and Edmund once again began to feel in control.

"I stayed for you, King Edmund." In the Minister's voice one could almost claim to hear admiration. "To give you my last promise."

Edmund squared his shoulders and glanced back when people suddenly came up behind them. Valera and Archer with Lucy's cavalry. "And what might that be?" he ground out.

Opening his arms and sweeping into a shallow bow, the Minister spoke as if reading from his sacred Rites. "To never again deceive his Majesty. To never again act against his wishes." He looked Edmund deep in the eye to ensure himself that not a single word passed by misunderstood. "To hopefully one day earn my place in the eternal halls with my family."

Edmund's rapid breaths became deeper. His eyes burned as he looked at the man and saw, for the first time, a man who had lost everything.

Then, with a sad smile, Bismillah spoke again. "Of course I thought the time in which I would have to keep these promises would be far shorter."

Edmund spied a possibility. "And was I to let you live?"

Bismillah offered another, shallow bow. "Then that time would be far longer, your Majesty."

Edmund inched closer, this time with his sword lowered. He now knew that they were both being watched very carefully by every Narnian behind them. "Are you sure you understand the weight of these promises, Minister?"

The man looked up with complete confidence and understanding. Understanding of the pardon. The Minister would become Edmund's slave. He would still appear as a free Calormene, and walk about the city in his fine clothes. But his life would be forfeit. With a third bow, this time deep enough for his nose to scrape the floor, he answered. "I am only what you make me, Sire."

Edmund watched him with cool eyes a few seconds longer before he passed him without a word in departure. The last Narnian soldier, who looked, saw a man in dark robes kneeled on the floor. Edmund didn't notice anything other than the need to move. He surged down the empty hall with his men behind him. Romel at his shoulder. Through bends and closed doors Edmund just kept walking. He led them through rooms he had never seen, and could not possibly have known of.

They descended stairs and passed through empty rooms until suddenly a shiver stopped him. He held up a hand when sounds of struggle reached him. And around a corner came Rabadash, struggling to keep hold of a woman in his arms. Edmund saw their backs and flinched when he recognized the woman being restrained. "_LUCY_!"

Rabadash whirled around and swung Lucy with him. He had a scimitar, stained with blood, pointed at her general neck area. Edmund heard every person or Creature behind him draw arms of bare their teeth.

"There is the little king!" Rabadash near screamed. He jerked Lucy and produced a yelp. She was crying at the sight of her brother.

"Ed-dmun-nd…"

The dark king took a step forward, but stopped when Rabadash bellowed out some poorly enunciated warning. Romel felt the air around Edmund heat up. He could feel his own hands shiver in fear. He didn't know what would happen if Queen Lucy died. What her brother would become. "Let her go," he barked, but the mad prince only laughed.

He inched slightly closer and produced another roar from Rabadash. Suddenly they heard a voice, not from Lucy, but from Valera. "We found the Tisroc," Her voice was as mild as a breath, but laden with tension. "He's dead. _He's_ king now." She pointed to Rabadash.

Romel didn't know why, but it made him nervous. It complicated the situation. Would Edmund kill a king? _Could_ he? Then, in a second so swift, everything happened.

Edmund reached for the sword on his back. "_Cathail'nath naranc_." Ripped it free, and threw. Not a second after the first word was spoken Queen Lucy yanked up her dress and stabbed something silver into the new Tisroc's throat before she wrenched herself free. The next heartbeat passed and Edmund's sword was imbedded in Rabadash's chest. Lucy's knife in his throat.

The royal swayed on his feet, staring stupidly down, at the weapons imbedded in him. Then his knees gave and he collapsed. Meanwhile Edmund had moved to where the Rabadash had pushed Lucy and pulled her up. Romel saddened when her miserable sobs were suddenly the only sound in the hall. Those and Edmund's soothing whispers.

"I need scouts to find us a way out of here." he muttered to the empathetic Narnians. "I need exists from the castle and a safe passage to the river." His voice strengthened. Several soldiers whirled about and left on light feet. He nodded to Valera for her to enclose the two sovereigns from the only other point of entry into the hall. Make sure no one snuck up on them. She and Thale headed down the opposite direction, the hall where Rabadash had appeared from only moments before. Romel didn't hear much of what his king said to the queen, but one whisper slipped through the constant litany.

"_Don't be angry. Be scared_."

It was whispered with the voice of a frightened child into her shoulder. Romel froze and wondered if there was not a time where Edmund might have told her the opposite. He turned with Archer to make sure the hall stayed clear of enemies and almost bumped into a Satyr. Astos, if his memory served him. He had spoken with him during the Spring Feast. Before this madness began.

"Master Romel." the Satyr asked in a reverent voice.

Romel stopped and turned to him. He glanced back in the direction of Edmund and Lucy, and could still see the two siblings clinging to each other, now in a bundle on the floor.

"Might I ask you a question?" Astos asked quietly.

Romel nodded.

"Could you tell me what it meant?"

"What, _what_ meant?" He pulled the Satyr a bit away from the two sovereigns.

"Cathal'el…-"

"_Cathail'nath naranc_?"

"Yes," Astos glanced back at his queen in concern.

Romel did as well. "It means _'Go for the throat'_." He suddenly found himself wondering how much there was still to learn about Edmund and his siblings. The thought made him uneasy for some reason.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Let me know what you thought. This was a bit longer than usual. Was that nice or tiring? How about the emotions, did they come across as I'd hoped? Let me know if you have any thoughts or complaints for me :) I swallow them all whole.


	33. Chapter 32: The Devil

**Disclaimer:** Oreius is not (as I listed at the _first_ posting of this chapter) Lewis' invention. Peter, Edmund and Lucy however ARE. (A million thanks to the awesome Calyn for the sharp eye and mind. And as I said to her, I'll say to you: I blame the late hour for this unforgivable slip-up). Celer belongs to Elektrum and this whole story was inspired by Tonzura and Ilysia. I own what little I can make of their brilliance. Oh and the italics are mine :)

**Author's Note:** Not much to say really. Except maybe: Have any of you ever dreamt about being burned alive?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32: "The Devil"<strong>

"_My father who sired me. My father who taught me, O such is his nature as to care for me whereupon I feel loved and secure and not a moment later strike me down as were I the vermin of the earth. Mother, Mother, thou who birthed me and raised me. O so beautiful, a more lovely thing none shall behold. Such is her nature as to call me by the harshest curses so that I may feel chastised, and yet be the one to hold me through my nightmares. Myself, Myself, my Dear Dear self. O parents who trained and raised me, why must you be so cruel as to make me hate you only to make me love you the next moment? Could I but liberate myself from you I would surely become all the wiser for it. But where would one find such liberation but in Death or in the Devil Himself?"_

* * *

><p>Ashay watched a party of approximately twenty five as they hurried from the castle. They were all hooded and cloaked, hiding from the lessening storm. Never in his young life had Ashay seen such turmoil in the heavens. Calormen seemed to have switched positions. Usually the storm was with the living, in the sand. Now the skies were ablaze in such violent contradiction to their usual state, and already he heard the war on the north side of the city dim. He had received no messenger from Al-Jazir and began to worry.<p>

"Who comes?" he asked the scout by his side. They were hidden among the ramshackle fishing cottages just outside Tashbaan. Almost everyone had been abandoned.

"Strange creatures and six humans."

"Narnians," Ashay said with a nod. The demons of Narnia didn't scare him. "The humans are no doubt the kings and queens." He felt very sure that all three siblings would have come to rescue their youngest. But who were the last two then? "How many men do we have?"

"Seventy, _Sidi_." The scout glanced over through the rain, but quickly returned his gaze to the swelling river. The crossing was almost covered by the churning body of water.

Ashay nodded and looked into the sky. It seemed that it had rebelled against the invaders. The Narnians had no business involving themselves with Calormene troubles. They should have stayed in the north. "Take them." He felt Tash was on their side.

* * *

><p>Edmund could barely see two feet in front of him. He was gripping Romel's cloak while the Irin followed Trillian, the Centaur. His sure steps steadied every man, woman, Creature or Animal behind him as they made their way over the crossing in a long line. The water, that usually only reached one's ankles, was almost waist-high. Each one had their eyes down to ward off most of the stinging rain.<p>

Edmund was worried about his brother, not being able to report back to him. He feared that Peter would think Edmund had been captured with Lucy and storm the palace. If the army divided and tried to break through the Calormenes they would lose. The royal army was almost twice the size of the Narnian one and with rebels on one side and Calormenes on the other the Narnians would be like lice between fingernails. Crushed.

"The second we reach the other side we need to make our way back to the north. Our army is fighting the rebels and the Calormenes." he shouted to the only recently freed Narnians. If anyone answered, or even heard, he didn't know. He could hear nothing over the crashing of thunder. The rain seemed to have tapered off, but the sky had instead let loose a regular thunderstorm. He was so lost in his progress to hold onto Romel and his sister that he was surprised when he stepped onto solid ground.

He barely had time to smile before a shout sounded from Trillian. "ENEMIES!" the Centaur drew his sword and stormed towards the approaching foe. Edmund shouted for him to hold, but knew none of them could hear once the rest of Lucy's small party quickly followed. He heard his sister's desperate cries for them to stop only because she was right by his side. As if by a stroke of magic the rain lessened even more and allowed for massive bolts of lightning to illuminate the clouded sky. Even though it was hardly noon, it was gloomy.

With each crack of lightning he saw rebels, swarming towards them. Easily three times as many, and hardly stunted by the boisterous skies. With the next clap of thunder the enemy crashed into their small group. They swarmed them like bees would have a bear and the Narnians fell quickly. The last Edmund could remember was drawing his swords before he heard his sister's scream. Then a flash from the sky, an approaching enemy and everything vanished.

* * *

><p>Bodies heaved in the mud around him. He still had Oreius by his side. The massive Centaur was as mighty a force as the storm over their heads. People were screaming and battling each other. Royal guards had crossed the river and mixed with the rebels. Everyone was doing war. It didn't matter to the rebels or royals who they slaughtered. The attacking force had suddenly been doubled.<p>

It had been a near devastating blow to the Narnians and they had been forced away from the river. Peter could feel his own energy sinking and could see it in his men. Only one Narnian to almost fifteen Calormenes. Those were overwhelming odds for even the Centaurs. The only hope they had now was the giants and the Gryphons. "_Fall back_!" Peter screamed. He saw to his relief that hardly any Narnians lay ruined in the sand and hoped that most had been brought to the healers' camp. To safety.

The second Oreius heard his king, he relayed the order. "FALL BACK!" His deep voice was like an explosion that had the Narnians drawing out of the melee. The rebels and royals continued to rage against each other which was the only upside to the whole thing. And the rain seemed to be lessening. That would help in navigating their way back to the camps.

Far to his right he saw King Lune order his horse lords to retreat. Peter hoped the twins were alright. He hoped that the nomads hadn't been overwhelmed in the midst of battle. If they could just retreat back to their camp, he felt sure they would be alright. He just needed a moment to gather information. Knowledge about their losses. To know how many could still fight. If his brother had found Lucy.

He was concerned about those who had been hurt. Bacchus had sent the cordial Peter, claiming that those still on the battlefield needed it most. It left everyone in the camp without it. Suddenly a cry of victory went out across the battlefield. "Jazir is dead!" The cry rose and was picked up by many voices as it made its way to the high king. Peter stopped when he heard it and waited for a Centaur that was making its way through heaving bodies. "My King!" He was smiling, splattered in blood and with several wounds to his arms and long, equine body. "My King, the Kahen is dead!"

"How? Who killed him?" Peter stepped closer to greet the young soldier.

"Captain Celer, Sire. Captain Celer engaged Jazir alone and cut him down!" His voice was as bright as the smile on his face, and Peter couldn't help his own smile from blossoming.

"Where is Celer now?"

"He has begun pulling his men back, Sire, as instructed."

Peter nodded. "Very well. See to it they're brought safely back to the camp." The Centaur, who looked younger the longer Peter stared at him, nodded vigorously. "Return to your post, Soldier."

"Yes, your Majesty!" He whirled about and sprinted back into the battle.

Peter glanced at Oreius and received a calculated nod. He turned to the field of battle and saw with satisfaction that hardly any rebels or royal soldiers followed them. Most were engaged before they could ever vacate the battlefield. "Send for the cavalry!" he barked to his general with the smile still gracing his face.

Oreius put a horn to his lips and blew out a shrill tone. Peter stilled for a moment because he knew what would come. His eyes drifted to the heavens where he saw might Gryphons descend from beyond the rumbling clouds. Each one carried a boulder in its arms. Like rocks falling from the sky, they were let go. The massive projectiles ravaged the enemies' ranks and decimated almost a third of the combined forces. Wave after wave of Gryphons carried the stones from the shores, but a few miles away.

The Calormenes all began screaming. Several captains ordered their archers to attack the Gryphons, but they were too high. Strategically staying just out of range. "Call in the giants." Peter ordered calmly to his general, knowing he was close enough to hear every whisper.

With a single hand signal Oreius called back the giants. They wore armored shoes. Boots, adorned with spikes and studs. They trampled through the ranks and Peter saw the Calormenes retreat in fear. Their internal disputes were forgotten as the giants ferociously kicked half of them to mash. Blood and bits clumped in the soggy sand, adding to the gore. Peter took it all in with a grim expression. It wasn't until the last rebels were heading back to the river he turned.

"When the last of them leave, call the giants back to stand guard. I want Gryphons patrolling the battlefield as well as the camp for any injured and anyone who might try to slip through." He turned and was followed by Oreius. "Have you heard from my brother?" Worry snuck into his voice unbidden. He trusted Edmund, but so many things could happen. So much could go wrong.

"The Wolves, led by Rufus have returned. A few of them fell in the battle, Sire. I have not heard from Phillip."

Peter nodded. "Is Edmund with the Wolves?" He allowed his hope to flicker, but felt it stamped down at his general's expression. "Send the Alpha to me. Along with anyone else who might have information," he ordered as he stormed off towards the camp. "And find Phillip! I want to know what's happening in that damned palace!"

* * *

><p>When he woke up he had a sudden moment of panic. He was hanging upside down, somewhere Aslan only knew. He could feel the hot sun on his face and an aching thirst in his throat. Faint thunder rumbled in the distance and his wrists and ankles ached. When he opened his eyes he realized why. He was tied to a beam by his hands and feet, being carried by two rebel soldiers. The sun was baking high above them, signaling midday.<p>

In the distance, over Tashbaan probably, the heavy clouds continued to churn out water and lightning. Every now and again they would all hear the echo of thunder. As it were Edmund guessed they were a few miles outside the city.

Who had taken him?

He craned his neck and looked around. Was it Jazir? He saw the black flags that indicated the commander, but noticed it was a young man. He looked around, trying to spot his sister when the situation suddenly became painfully clear. "Lucy?" he croaked. His dry throat cracked and pained him. He frowned and tried to swallow. "Lucy!" he called, a bit louder.

"Edmund?" came the exhausted reply.

The Just King craned his neck in this and that direction, but couldn't see her.

"I'm right here, Edmund."

"The men?" His carriers gave the beam a little shake, but he refused to be silenced. He flinched when pain rocketed through his wrists and ankles.

"Most were captured." He heard the looming tears that thickened his sister's voice.

His jaw ground tight and rage bubbled inside him. "The Irins?"

"Alive." she said in a very quiet voice.

He allowed his muscles to unclench and heard the grunts from his carriers. A limp body was harder to carry than a tense one. He wondered how long he would have to be suspended in such a way, but needn't have worried. It wasn't long.

At the front he heard Ashay call out for a halt. He was thrown onto the ground, still tied to the beam. His body was beginning to ache from the events of the day, and the previous. What he hadn't felt before because of adrenaline he now felt with a vengeance. His arms and shoulders burned from being suspended. As did his hips and shins. His head was pounding from where he guessed one of the rebel soldiers had struck him earlier. His body was sore from the fighting, running and riding he had been doing for the past weeks. And his chest felt incredibly sore because of the worry he felt.

Not just worry for his sister, for his subjects, but worry for his brother, their army. Their country, should he fail this day. Should he fail to free his men and his sister. What worried him the most was the expression on his brother's face when Peter learned the Edmund had failed. He was so worried that he didn't notice the rebels setting up pyres. Each one was stacked around a heavy beam, laid down in the sand, with piled wood in a nest around it.

"Tie the king and his demons together," Ashay ordered.

At this point Edmund was still wondering if this young man was a general in Jazir's army, or someone else? Someone more important. His legs were freed and he was placed erect with his hands tied to the beam in front of him. Four, heavy bodies were pushed down beside him and had their hands tied next to his. His sister was pushed down on his other side and tied to the beam as well. Ire bubbled in him over her rough treatment. "Watch it!" he barked and earned a slap on the back of his head. He jerked his ties experimentally. They were too tight to budge.

The Narnians were placed on a line, all tied to another beam that was just as heavy as the one Edmund, the Irins and Lucy had been lashed to. Ashay took a pompous stand in front of him. "The Rite teaches us that the most sacred of all things is the Holy Fire that burns deep within the earth." His voice curled the 'r's' in a pleasant way. "It warns us what awaits evildoers in the afterlife." His dark eyes slid directly to Lucy and Edmund felt her shiver. "They must burn."

He turned swiftly. "Start with the demons!"

"NO!" Edmund instantly jerked his bindings and tried to lunge to his feet.

"No don't!" Lucy cried, her voice shrill with fear. Romel, Archer and Thale were shouting as well. Edmund couldn't hear Valera's at times powerful voice, but heard her muttered 'oh no' amongst all the cries.

"_NO_! Astos!" Edmund again tried to rip free, but rebounded back to his knees.

The Satyr was freed from his binds and dragged, by six soldiers, to the waiting pyre. He was tied down to the horizontal beam so he faced Edmund and Lucy. He had gone dead silent. Had stopped struggling. They could all se his tremors when the rebels began pouring oil over him.

"No, please!" Lucy cried. Tears running in violent rivulets down her face.

Everyone was screaming, Edmund realized. His eyes widened when he suddenly caught the eyes of Astos. Wide-eyed and shivering, the Narnian soldier still looked straight at him and offered a single nod. Something inside Edmund broke when a rebel soldier the next second threw a lit torch on the Satyr. He went up in a blaze of screams and fire. And try as he might, Edmund couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Lucy was screaming next to him. They were all screaming.

"Again!" Ashay cried and six men immediately moved over to grab another of Lucy's soldiers. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Swearing death and suffering on every last one of the rebels. A Dog named Palson was dragged over. He was whimpering and yowling for them to let go. It broke Edmund's heart and tears began rolling down his cheeks. Never in his life had he felt so powerless.

"What is your name!" he suddenly yelled at Ashay.

The young commander turned and looked at the king while his men strapped Palson to another pyre. "I am Ashay Tarkaan. Son of Jazir by adoption." He came closer while his men lashed a now screaming Palson to the pyre. "And _you_ are Edmund the Just." He smiled. "Will you offer me pardon? Absolution for all my sins?"

Edmund growled let out a breath and tried to ignore that the rebels were now dousing oil over the Dog. He was a large Rottweiler mix of some sort, and to see him so frightened was beyond troubling. "No I intend to kill you and every last one of your locusts. When I'm done here I intend to march up to your _father_ and kill him as well."

Ashay seemed momentarily lost and held off on setting fire to Palson. "The Demon King with all his demon soldiers? The only place you'll see is the icy hell." he spat at the young man.

"Not by your hand." Edmund glanced up when suddenly a flash of brown cut through the clear sky. So fast and soundless he almost thought he had imagined it. It took him a second to realize what it was. It was a scout for his brother. Peter was here, or coming. "You're not man enough to try." he spat out in the most venomous voice he had. "A little boy trying to play general?" He felt his hands begin to tremble.

Ashay sneered and inched closer.

"Why wait, bastard?" he barked out.

"_Sidi_?" one of the men called, as he held a torch. Palson had silenced and was cowering on the beam he had been strapped to. Visibly shivering.

"Take the dog off." Ashay said in a most lethal voice. His eyes fixed on Edmund.

"But, Sidi, your father-"

"To _hell_ with my father!" He ripped a jug of oil from one of his men. "Strap him to the beam." He turned as six men swarmed on Edmund, ripping him from the beam and pulling him towards the pyre. Edmund struggled with all his might and tried desperately to catch another glimpse of the Gryphon. His brother _had_ to be here.

Edmund vaguely noticed that Lucy had now begun threatening the rebels behind him. Along with every other hostage there. He was pulled to the beam and wrestled to a kneeling position, facing his sister. She was roaring in anger, in ways he hadn't heard in years. Each word from her was like a knife. Each sound, like the roar of Aslan. And despite the fear, coming off him in waves, Ashay didn't seem prepared to stop. He stared down Edmund fearfully, with the jug in hand. It wasn't until he began splashing oil here and there over the kneeling king that Lucy regressed to pleading.

She was begging for Ashay to stop. To wait. To take her. Anything but her brother. Edmund realized to his surprise that all of them were begging Ashay to take someone else. Romel looked almost shell shocked. He was paler than Edmund had ever seen him. His shoulders were tense and straight as an arrow. Beside him Lucy was writing in her binds, trying to fight free.

But little good did it do.

As Ashay walked a circle around Edmund, the king could feel his own hands trembling. His eyes were whetting despite his best efforts. His shoulders shook when the first sob tore from his throat. "Lucy, don't look." He heard the crackle of a torch as a soldier handed it to Ashay. "Don't l-look!" Tears rolled down his eyes and mixed with the oil on his face. With a swift prayer he looked heavenward and almost wined in relief. Birds of prey were circling. They _had_ to be his brother's scouts. Peter _had_ to be nearby.

He flinched when Astos' pyre popped. The Satyr was long dead, but the logs were still crackling. What had Brickett told him about the furnaces? Never to breathe in when near one. One, deep breath would kill you. _Keep screaming_. He was heaving deep breaths when he finally turned to Ashay and looked him in the eye. It took everything the young king had to not look at the torch. His internal litany slipped out between his lips in a fixated whisper. "…_C'mon. c'mon, light the pyre. C'mon_…"

In a last act of disgust, Ashay sneered and dropped the torch onto the pyre. It lit up. Everything lit up. Edmund's own screams mixed with those of his sister, who sounded as if she was right there, burning with him. His back arched and his screams carried into the heavens. It was strange that it only burned for a few seconds. Then it became like liquid ice. When the smell hit him he also suddenly felt the sickening sense of his melted skin, searing and reshaping on his arms and legs.

Again and again he screamed. He kept screaming until there was a flash of black and something ripped him from his seated position, taking slivers of molten flesh in the process.

* * *

><p>"Your Majesty," Oreius alerted Peter to his presence and ushered Phillip and Rufus closer. He had been to look for Bluebell the Sparrow. The guardian of the kings. Always the king Oreius could not be with himself when they were forced to separate. The Sparrow had lost track of the Just King during the rain storm.<p>

"What news from my brother?" Peter's heart was pounding beneath the shiny armor.

"They never returned, your Majesty," Rufus said meekly. His head was held low in fear of what the high king might do to him.

Peter looked at Phillip for confirmation. "I never made it to your side, Sire. Edmund told me he would take his sister over the southern crossing if he couldn't take her out the north."

"And why didn't you come find me?" Peter signaled for Oreius to begin departure to the southern crossing immediately. The general silently left in search of ready soldiers.

"I was almost there, but then I heard Jazir call for a messenger, Sire. He wanted to let his general, Ashay know to watch for people who were crossing the river to the south."

"And what did you do?" Peter was already scouting the camp for Oreius and for signs that a party had been readied.

"I tried to follow, but the density of the battle stopped me, King Peter." Phillip was clearly upset and Peter doubted very much it was cowardice that had restrained the loyal Horse. "I tried,"

Peter's eyes softened and he beckoned the Phillip to look at him. With a soft nod he alleviated some of his worries. "Rufus." The Wolf stood to attention, not without a fair amount of concern for his life. "Your services in the battle are greatly appreciated, but I fear I'm in no position to grant you a pardon of any kind. Only my brother can do that so I must ask you to help me find him."

Rufus nodded after only a second of surprise. "We'll head to the southern crossing and try to pick up his trail, your Majesty."

Peter nodded and allowed the Wolf to take off. He was a little concerned that they might run, but felt fairly certain that they could find his brother with the Animals loyal to him. "I assume you'll be following us?" he asked Phillip.

The Horse nodded, and joined the waiting party with his king.

There were almost two hundred of them. Only the quickest among the Narnians had been allowed to join. Great Cats and Centaurs mostly. Peter was sitting atop the war mount his sister had once given him with Oreius by his side. King Lune and his sons had joined with a few of their soldiers. Several of nomads as well. Zoren among them.

On the south bank of the city they saw two Wolves from Rufus' company. The animals perked when the cavalry arrived. "High King Peter. We were ordered to wait and guide you." a female said. She looked the older of the two.

"Very well. Be quick about it." He had realized very quickly what had happened when they arrived at the crossing, and found no signs of others. Only half-smudged footprints in muddy sand. The light rain was still trying to wash them away, but he could see blue skies a bit away. "Call the Gryphons. Tell them to fly ahead to the Wolves." he ordered. His brother had been ambushed.

Oreius blew a command in his horn and they saw five of the mighty predators whoosh past with only a small displacement of wind to alert to their presence. He watched them climb higher into the sky with minimal resistance until they were clear of the clouds. Then with a loud bark he called the army forward and galloped in the Wolves' footprints.

It wasn't long until Peter's worst fears were confirmed. "Smoke!" someone called.

And Peter saw it. A thick column of it rising next to a smaller one. "Quickly!" he called and urged his horse faster. They descended upon a very large group of rebels. About sixty. The Wolves had already engaged and were ripping their way to the prisoners Peter spotted in their midst. Several of them were screaming, but the screams changed when they realized rescue had arrived. They began screaming for Peter himself. One voice in particular. Lucy's. She was screaming for him to hurry and he suddenly saw why.

The column of smoke they had seen earlier was laid out perfectly clear. They were pyres. One had already killed one of their subjects and the other was still ravaging through a body. Whoever it was, was still screaming.

With a sickening drop of his stomach Peter realized who he was watching. "NO!" He kicked his horse forward and heard Phillip scream next to him as well. Several of their soldiers suddenly seemed to realize who was burning on the second pyre and all became frenzied with panic. Soldiers lost what little sanity they had left and began cutting down rebels without mercy. A scout informed that a small party had left just before they arrived, but Peter could only focus on his brother.

His brother who was still burning. "Zoren, give me your cloak!" He rolled off his horse and sprinted to the pyre with Zoren and Oreius right beside him. The nomad handed him the cloak off his back as they ran. Without thinking Peter held it up in front of himself and lunged into the pyre. The ropes that had held his brother snapped easily under his weight and momentum and the two rolled away from the flames. Peter wrapped the cloak around Edmund and began patting out the flames on his still screaming brother.

With shivering hands he pulled free the cordial and flipped the cloak aside. His brother was burnt beyond recognition. Every strand of hair on his head was gone, his eyes had been glued half shut by the intensity of the flames. And for the first time in his life Peter wondered if the cordial would even work. Someone had freed his sister who was suddenly by his side. She was still screaming as if _she_ was the one on fire. Calling Edmund's name over and over.

The drop dislodged and slipped into Edmund's mouth. Silence fell as most of the rebels were cut down and the rest tied up. Only Lucy's panicked cries could still be heard. Oreius had kneeled next to them with tears in his eyes. It was the first time Peter had ever seen his general that close to panic.

For an agonizing moment they waited to see if their brother was beyond saving. It wasn't until he drew a tentative breath that Peter dared breathe as well. Every muscle in his body relaxed and he began shaking. It seemed miraculous beyond belief, but the cordial began healing the burns all over his body. The patches of melted flesh fused seamlessly together and reshaped into pale skin. Everything healed. The places where the fire had disfigured his brother morphed back into their normal façade. And through it all Edmund was nestled in Peter's arms, quietly breathing through the healing process.

It wasn't until the last wound had fused itself together that Edmund's eyes snapped open. With a scream he began squirming in his brother's grip. Crying as if back on fire. Lucy's own screams had yet to lessen. She still looked as panicked as she had upon arrival. "Shh, shh, Edmund. It's alright. The fire's out, it's out." Peter rushed to say as he drew his writhing brother closer.

"Take his clothes off," Oreius suddenly said. "They might still be smoldering."

And with swift hands Peter and Lucy ripped the shredded clothes from their brother's newly healed body. Leaving him only wrapped in the long cloak. It was when it slipped off his head Peter saw to his dismay that Edmund didn't have a stitch of hair left on him. The Just King was still crying, begging for them to put the fire out. Peter drew him closer and cradled his head under his chin. He began rocking back and forth, mumbling nonsensical words to quell his brother's panic.

Lucy crawled closer as well and wrapped her body around Peter's. She was still crying and Peter realized it might be making things worse. "Lucy, he's alright. The fire's out," He gripped her tear streaked face. "It's out, it's out."

"You did-didn't s-se him!" she cried. "You didn't h-hear him!" She pulled closer and wrapped her strong arms around both brothers until Peter thought he would bruise. Her panicked cries mingled with pleas of "_You didn't hear him, you didn't hear him s-scream_!" while Peter still tried to calm his brother down.

Edmund's panicked screams had lessened to deep inhales that brought long sobs every time he exhaled. He was shivering. Along with the sobs came broken apologies that he couldn't _stop it_, whatever 'it' was. It wasn't until Edmund had calmed down and Lucy's cries had softened to sobs that he noticed the silence around him.

Peter looked up. The prisoners had all been freed and the remaining rebels had all been tied down or killed. And in a circle around the kings and the queen every Narnian stood watching. Their eyes filled with disbelief or anger. Oreius followed his gaze and came to his hooves with some trouble. "Prepare for departure!" His shout made most of the men snap back to attention and every rebel flinch.

Lucy suddenly noticed them as well and crawled to her feet. Her clothes were covered in caked sand, as was her face and hair. Her eyes were red and her hands shook. But something in her expression made every soldier flinch out of her way when she stumbled away from her kneeling brothers.

She passed the Irins who all had tears in their eyes and ripped Romel's sword from him without preamble or excuse. He flinched, but didn't dare try and take it back. Everyone watched as she made her way to the kneeling rebels. One of them, Ashay's second, didn't look scared at all. If anything he looked ready for whatever the queen might do. Ashay wasn't with the group, nor was he with the ones that had been killed.

She stopped in front of him first with the sword lowered to her waist. "You worked for Jazir?"

He nodded, but didn't speak. "Jazir is dead." Zoren said from behind Lucy.

For a second the rebel's eyes widened, but then he calmed again. "Then he is with Tash."

It was as if a shiver of rage rippled through Lucy just then. Dropping the sword she kneeled directly in front of the restrained man and grabbed his face with both hands. "I'm not afraid of you or your _God_!" she hissed. Then, in a movement so fluent it hardly seemed human, she rose and drew the sword up to sever his head from his body. It exploded off the neck with a squirt of blood that made the rest of the rebels cry out in fear.

Then she turned to Romel and threw his sword back at him on her way back to Edmund. "Kill the rest." she called out to no one in particular.

It was Oreius who first heeded her command. He stepped up to another rebel and quickly drew his sword through flesh. It seemed to be the action that spurred the rest on. In a frenzy of howls and screams the remaining rebels were torn apart by the soldiers. A slaughter unlike any Peter had ever seen. Unlike anything his brother could ever have condoned.

Lucy kneeled next to them and took her oldest brother's face in her hands. "We need to move him."

Peter blinked and realized he had been in shock. With the help of his sister and their soldiers they heaved Edmund onto Peter's horse. Peter was assisted back on it as well with Oreius' hand between his shoulder blades.

The last he saw of his brother's pyre was a fleeting glance as they rode back towards Tashbaan.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Aaaaand exhale! This is not the end, people. Remember that. Let me know what you thought of it.


	34. Chapter 33: The Moon

**Disclaimer:** I wrote a really great disclaimer yesterday, but the site boned me and refreshed the page before I could save it. So all I have for you today is: I own nothing but the Irins and the intro.

**Author's Note:** Let the healing begin. Sorry for the wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33: "The Moon"<strong>

_"When logic leaves you. When pale eyes turn to looks of distrust. When storms begin over land and die at sea. When up is down, when eggs hatch fullgrown chickens and water rushes out, not in. When you feel lost in places you once knew so well. When friends become strangers and enemies become friends. When the earth rolls beneath your feet like water and when fire burns black. You look to the places that once gave you comfort. You look to the moon, to faith, to old friends. When all you once knew falls apart. Do not look anywhere but inside. Look back just this once. Look and gaze upon all the things you have accomplished before now. Look back and then...move forth."_

* * *

><p>The heat was less now. The tension in the air had lifted as well after the storm. Peter was watching both his siblings. A tent had been erected. Camp had been made. It was three days since the battle had been fought and won. Rumors that Susan was riding south had reached the scouts. Peter couldn't summon the energy to care. His sister was free to ride her horses to death if she so chose. She would get here and he would have someone to lean on.<p>

He had realized during the first day after rescuing both his siblings how hard this whole ordeal had impacted him. Granted it had impacted Edmund and Lucy harder, but he was reeling as well. He couldn't sleep. He wasn't hungry at all. He could barely keep his concentration for longer than thirty seconds. He kept getting headaches.

And as bad as he had it, Lucy had it worse. As bad as _she_ had it, Edmund had it worst of all. Lucy, his darling, little sister had hardened into something sinister. A tyrant. She had yet to utter a single command to her soldiers, but every word out of her mouth to Peter was somehow both numb and full of anger at the same time. She had black circles under her eyes from the nightmares in her sleep. She insisted on sleeping next to Edmund, though he had yet to wake up.

He would open his eyes occasionally and begin screaming or crying. He had dreams of burning. Lucy had dreams of burning. Hell Peter suspected he would have them too once he actually slept. At the moment both his siblings were sleeping under the velvet covers of their shared cot. It was a wide thing and nicer than most beds, but the Narnians still insisted it was barely enough for their royals. The Fauns mostly, when they weren't shivering with concern for their two, young sovereigns.

Oreius had pulled Peter aside and given him a look. Enough to let Peter know that he was also under observation. Peter hadn't reacted in any way other than to relax his guard around Oreius a little. There was really no point in trying to hide anything from his wise tutor.

Edmund stirred in front of him. Another dream. They were too deep for him to actually wake from, and Peter wondered if he would still remember them when he woke up. Not five seconds after her brother Lucy shifted as well. Not from a nightmare, but as a sign she was waking up. With a slow blink she opened her eyes and looked at Peter. Her back was to Edmund and both were almost completely covered by the thick comforter.

"How was your nap?" Peter asked, tired. He knew he needed sleep, but something in him wouldn't relax.

"Horrible. Yours?" Her voice was harder. Less caring. She asked, but she didn't really care one way or the other.

"Eraniz's mother sent a pigeon for us." he said.

Lucy's eyes focused sharply on his and for an instant he feared she might take up arms.

"She was buried yesterday."

She seemed to sag and looked away. She angled her upper body back so that she could touch Edmund. She ran a gentle hand over his naked head. Not a single hair. Peter hated it. It was proof that his brother had been burned. "No one has heard from Hebu, but it seems for the time being that Bismillah Ezo has taken over. The commoners seem to like him."

"Well they should, he's not a noble." she said without looking at him.

"Would you like me to leave?"

That got her attention. "No." She frowned at him as if it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

Peter shrugged. "Then how about you start talking to me like you actually _want_ me here?"

Her frown became more pronounced as she stared at him.

"This is just like Terebinthia-"

"No it's not." Her voice didn't brook any argument. "That doesn't compare to anything."

Peter sighed and rubbed his numb face. He leaned his elbows on his knees. "You're acting the same way."

"_What_ way?" she barked at him.

He looked at her while she continued to stare at him. "Like you're Edmund's shield." he answered calmly. "Like you're his _only_ shield. Will it change once he wakes up?"

She retuned her eyes to her unconscious brother and shrugged.

"I need my sister back." he whispered. He noticed a tremor race through her shoulders.

"She'll come back once her brother does." Lucy continued stroking Edmund's bald head mindlessly.

With a sharp sigh Peter pushed out of his seat and left the tent. He went outside and found Oreius, Celer and the Irins in the immediate vicinity. The army was nearing the northern border of the Great Desert. The air was cooling. You could smell the sea on the strong winds. Soon they would begin to see more vegetation. "Captain," Peter greeted. He tried to lift his voice enough to sound pleased, but found it next to impossible. "I heard of your bravery during battle."

The captain nodded with a soft smile. "How is King Edmund doing?"

"Still sleeping." Peter again rubbed his dry eyes. "Oreius, is there any food?"

The general directed him to a fire without a word. The sun was sinking. They only traveled for half days to spare Edmund. A litter had been made for him, but the healers still insisted he needed real rest. That he shouldn't be traveling at all. Peter kneeled in front of the fire and received a bowl of soup with rice. "Thank you," He turned back to Oreius. "Where is King Lune?"

"In his own camp not far away." Oreius pointed in the direction of the rising moon. It was full tonight, as it rose into a light blue sky from across the sea.

"How did the twins fare?" Peter shoveled in the soup without much strength for anything else.

"Like true knights." Oreius rumbled. He stood next to Peter. His hooves sank into the sand slightly, but he didn't seem bothered. "Queen Susan has left Cair Paravel in Sir Giles' care. It seems she is coming to meet you half way."

"Hm," Peter mumbled noncommittally.

Oreius sighed. "Your Majesty-"

Peter put down the bowl and stood up. "Not now, Oreius." He turned back for the tent. The flap swished closed behind him and he saw Lucy in the process of washing Edmund's face carefully. "Anything?"

"No." She didn't sound like she even really noticed Peter's presence.

He reclaimed his earlier seat and rested one leg on the other. His elbows on the armrests of the rickety seat. "Susan is coming." he said when he suddenly remembered.

Lucy didn't answer or look up from her task and Peter didn't push her. That night, as the previous three, he didn't sleep. Lucy didn't either until she could barely keep her eyes open. Peter felt like the enemy around his youngest sister. Lucy slept between Edmund and the rest of the world. It was exactly like last time. And like last time it had taken Edmund and Susan both to finally calm their youngest down. Peter figured it was because he and Lucy were too much alike for him to have any sway in her unease. He knew this, and _still_ felt like the enemy.

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><p>Five days passed and they crossed the southern border of Archenland. One more day and they would be in Anvard. Edmund had woken up and Susan had joined the Narnians. The nomads had headed off for their camp alone and Peter could feel King Lune itching to do the same. He wanted his sons home, but didn't want to leave the four sovereigns.<p>

"You _should_ go." Peter said calmly. He and Lune was sitting outside Edmund's tent while their two sisters sat with him inside. Peter had noticed a change in his brother when he first woke up. He seemed subdued. Almost shy. Peter figured it had something to do with his lack of hair more than anything. Both brothers prided themselves on being fairly large when it came to appearances, but the baldness was a constant reminder of what had happened. Susan cried when she saw. Made Lucy cry as well, leaving Edmund and Peter in the sudden roles of comforters. Edmund had comforted Lucy while Peter held Susan. Since waking Edmund had barely spoken two words.

Lune puffed and sat back a bit further. "You are my guests," He gestured to the distinctly Archenland'ish nature around them. "What kind of host would I be if I allowed you to travel unescorted."

Peter knew he was worried about Edmund.

"What kind of _king_?" he added as an afterthought.

Peter didn't answer and instead looked at the Irins to his right. They were sharing a fire for the evening. "My sister says your families have been settled in the Cair."

Romel looked up and nodded.

"What's on your mind?" The question surprised the young king as much as it did those around him. Romel looked up with faint surprise.

"Did Edmund tell you of our traditions for honoring a knight?" he eventually asked.

Peter nodded. His brother had mentioned before the battle that knights in the old days were given names in Ancient Narnian. Names that were thought to reflect their character. "He told me yours. Lightbringer, wasn't it?"

Romel nodded. "Lauviah and Hale had them as well."

"What were they?"

At this the Irin looked up from the fire. The three others turned to Peter. "Hale was named…_Ark en'Ethal._"

Peter nodded. "Protector of light." Romel nodded as well. "He was your second in command?"

"At the very beginning, yes." Romel agreed. "Lauviah w-was…" His dark eyes stared into the fire with equal intensity as the flames. "Hers was _Iern'Makhul_."

"Iron soldier." Oreius translated.

"I thought she was an Ostrich in the very beginning." Peter pondered out loud. He wondered how a Bird of any kind could have earned such a title.

The Irins all cracked slim smiles. "It wasn't in reference to her body, but to her mind." Valera explained at Peter's, Oreius' and Lune's curious looks.

Peter nodded and stared into the flames. "Who gave them their names?"

At his question the three Irins all looked at Romel to answer. "It was Arthur. In his previous life." The Irin picked up a stick and stirred the embers at the edge of the fire. "He found the three of us as children and raised us." The Irin still didn't know how their friend had found them so early. Neither of them remembered anything from previous lives until they came of age. But somehow Arthur had _known_.

Peter had again turned to the ancient commander and allowed his thoughts to drift away with the smoke from the fire. The silence settled for a while as the flames made the wood crackle. It was pleasant. Stars in the sky were getting brighter as the moon rose higher.

Romel's voice when he next spoke wasn't as interrupting as Peter would've thought. "We intend to give Edmund a name as well." He looked up at Peter. "What do you think about that?"

Peter was stunned. It took him a moment of dull staring before he realized what Romel had asked. He swallowed and turned back to the fire. "I think that would be a very good idea." he whispered.

* * *

><p>Inside the tent Edmund was snuggled up next to Susan with Lucy at his back. His younger sister had already fallen asleep. Edmund was on the very verge of doing so himself. Especially with Susan's soft humming and the way her fingertips drew circles on his scalp. It had been a while since he had felt so relaxed. Knowing that his brother was right outside and that an army of friends surrounded them. Having his two sisters beside him.<p>

Lucy had tried her very best to be supporting when Edmund first awoke, but her own unease was making him uncomfortable. Not that he would ever tell her. And then, with the stroke of magic, Susan had arrived and Lucy had relaxed. Edmund recognized her behavior from ears ago, but thought it best not to comment. It would run its course.

"Are you asleep?" Susan asked very softly. Still drawing circles.

"Hm." Edmund angled his head up a bit to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry I made you come all this way."

Susan smiled in that gentle, but slightly distant way of hers. Edmund found it immensely comforting to know that at least one of his siblings weren't too affected by the traumatic events. "I would have done it regardless. Giles has everything under control at home. The Cair is being rebuilt."

Edmund mushed his face deeper into the pillow that rested in Susan's lap. Behind him Lucy muttered something in her sleep before she turned and fell quiet again. "Do you think it will ever grow back?" he mumbled, referring to his missing hair. He didn't really care. If only he hadn't felt so exposed. Felt like everyone knew.

"Harash's has." Susan said in a light voice. "She's starting to get downs all over her body again. She looks like a fuzzy snowflake. Sully won't stop making fun of her."

Edmund smiled with his eyes focused, yet unseeing, at the tent entrance. He thought about the unfairness of it all. "Why did this happen to us?" he whispered. Susan's hand settled and he shrunk deeper into the covers.

"I don't know." Her voice was shivering as if she was about to cry.

"Do you think Peter is alright?" His voice wouldn't climb above a whisper.

The sound of hair, scratching against fabric, alerted Edmund to the fact that his sister had turned her head. Probably to look in the direction of their brother. "I think he's hurt more than he realizes."

In his mind Edmund agreed. The thoughts swirled away from his brother and onto things he had seen. He was processing, was what Susan called it. He kept remembering little things here and there. Little glimpses of no importance among the very important things. "Bismillah swore allegiance to us." he muttered. "I think he can actually get Tashbaan back on its feet if Hebu doesn't return."

"I hope he doesn't. Calormen has been long overdue for a change in leadership."

Edmund hummed in agreement and Susan began her soothing circles again. It wasn't long until the young king fell asleep.

Outside the peace would take far longer to settle. Not until in the depth of night did Peter return to the tent. He found Susan still awake with her brother's head in her lap. The high king walked over with a deep sigh and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you came."

She smiled at him in relief, and he realized it might be the first time anyone had said that to her. He nodded for her to lie down, and held Edmund's head while she did so. She moved further onto the wide cot, and repositioned Edmund's head and the pillow next to her shoulder. She raised the duvet for her brother and smiled when Peter climbed in. Like Edmund did with her, she did with Peter, and put her head against his shoulder. The weight of it was so soothing to the elder brother that he soon fell asleep. And so they slept side by side with one another. It had been years since they had done that. Shared a bed.

Unknown to anyone Susan didn't sleep at all that night. She felt somehow that it was her turn to hold a vigil, and did so in the same calm manner she did much else. Without complaints and without letting either of her siblings know the next morning.

It would be years before either of the Pevensies realized how easily she took on the role of guardian when none of the other three could. The only one who knew was Oreius, and only because he quietly checked on his royals in the wee hours of morning. As he soundlessly pulled aside the tent flap Susan looked up at him with a tired smile.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> The mention of previous events, repeated patterns of behaviour, all lead back to a story that is still being written. I'll begin posting once it feels finished. And I have news. There will be a third installment in this story line, but only after the other story. The two are connected. Can't wait to see what you think of the prospect of yet MORE stories with the Irins. Anyone getting tired of reading about them yet?


	35. Chapter 34: The Magician

**Disclaimer:** You know when you want something really bad and it just happens? Well the other day I was sitting in my couch and I reeeeaaalllly wanted a sandwich, and suddenly there it was! No shit. So I tried it with time travel so I could go back and write the Chronicles of Narnia myself, knock Lewis off that high horse of his, and guess what? It wor- *Gets punched in face with rulebook* Seriously! Seriously? OW! Damn... Well alright the time travel wasn't true, but that sandwich materialized outta thin air, I swear to you! *Gets punched for lying* Stop it! *Looming hand discourages further lying* Alright, alright! I didn't actually summon that sandwich anymore than I wrote the Chronicles, but I'm not repeating the guy's name! We all know who he is.

**Author's Note: **The intro below might confuse most of you. I saw it once in a move called Labyrinth, though the setting was a bit different. The reason I chose it for The Magician is because to me it represents a conflict of the mind. That conflict could very well have played out in the girl's head, or in someone else's – say Edmund Pevensie's perhaps? Stuff about the emotional trauma of being burned alive would bore you and I might manage to confuse myself even more, so I'll leave it at pain, doubt etc. etc. so on and so forth. But enough about all that.

I bet you all have a very distinct image of Romel in your heads by now, but I'm afraid I might have to push that a little in this chapter. If it helps I kinda always pictured him as Vin Diesel. Yes, you heard me. Now go read.

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><p><strong>Chapter 34: "The Magician"<strong>

"_Once upon a time a girl was heading to visit her aunt and uncle in another village. She had never before visited her aunt and uncle alone and so did not know exactly what road to take to their house. Half way she came to a bend in the road. It forked into two directions. In front of each new direction sat a short and stumped man on a box. Both looked exactly alike, and could be little else than twins, though one had no legs and the other had no eyes. She looked at them both and asked 'Good Sirs, which road should I take to reach the village not far from here?' The men smiled at her and said: 'One of us always lies, the other always tells the truth. Ask us and you shall receive two, different answers. Only one is correct.'_

'_But how will I know which is the liar and which is the truthsayer?' The men again smiled and one spread his arms while the other blinked his eye. 'Ask and we shall tell you'. So she asked the one with no legs. 'Good Sir, is your road the one to my uncle's house?' He smiled and answered: 'No'. She looked at the other and asked the same question, to which the answer was also no. 'So which is the liar and which is the truthsayer?'_

_To this they just smiled and said: 'Ask us and you will find out'._

_But the girl, being wise for her age, thought on their words a moment and then asked the man without legs: 'Was I to ask your brother for directions what would he say?' The one without legs thought very hard on her question until a smile lit up his face. 'Yes, would be his answer. He would mislead you because he is the liar'. She smiled and said: 'But are you not the liar, for your brother just now said 'no'?' The man stopped smiling and looked down in thought as the girl kept speaking. 'And just now you have told a lie about your brother, does that not make you the liar?' She allowed him no time to answer. 'And so should your first answer to me not be a lie as well, and this path in fact be the one that will take me to my aunt and uncle?' Still denying him time to answer she picked up her things and hastily hurried down the road."_

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><p>Edmund looked up when he felt a change in the air. The sharp sun seemed to soften. The air seemed to sweeten. They crossed a bend in the road and he understood where the sudden calm stemmed from. They were home. His shoulders sagged along with the rest of him. Phillip whinnied softly in response and added a bit of bounce to his step. Edmund smiled. "Easy now. We'll get there in due time."<p>

Peter looked over, first at his brother, then at the Horse. He smiled. "It's strange, the difference a few meters makes." He too had felt the change in the air. The colors suddenly stood out. The sky brightened. "Oreius?" The Centaur trotted over. "I seem to remember a terrace half way down."

"You're memory is true. There is a small rest stop half way down the mountain. I even believe some of the locals dug a well some time ago for that very purpose."

"Why not continue through?" Edmund turned in his saddle.

Peter frowned at the concern he saw in his brother's eyes, but felt a rest would serve them all well. He shook his head. "No. The girls need a rest as well." He turned to Oreius. "We'll stop there for the night."

The general nodded and took a scout ahead. The carriers were hurried so they could begin setting up tents. Edmund watched his brother from Phillip's back. He felt a little guilty for not even considering the girls. And so, his guilt on the tip of his tongue, any argument against his brother's decision was swallowed. He allowed the tents to be erected without a word. He moved when he was told to move. He helped where he was allowed, but most of the carriers were very particular on how to do things. Apparently setting up tents wasn't just so so. It took skill and inspiration.

At least according to the Centaurs and Animals who _did_ it.

For the entire afternoon he barely spoke except to answer a direct question. Hunters went out to catch their dinner and he watched cooks prepare the meat. They were a rather large group although most of the Narnians had dispersed. The nomads had chosen to stay in Archenland with King Lune's blessing. The Archenlanders had, of course, headed on to their own homes. The giants had chosen to head straight for their home on the eastern shore, claiming they were long overdue for a nap. Many of the locals dropped away from the army when they neared their regions. Some who lived near the mountains chose to continue through the night. Most of the Birds had left as well.

All in all there was only the royal army left and a fraction of the civil army. It looked like a drop of blood being watered out. The red colors of Narnia against her green nature.

Sometime in the early evening Edmund found himself on a granite slate, overlooking the Southern Marsh. His dark eyes scanned the valley below. He knew most of the settlements he saw. Many were farmers. Some hunters and even an artist here or there. He imagined a sunset against a backdrop of mountains was beautiful. "I don't know anyone who can stare that hard at nothing except you," a familiar voice spoke.

It interrupted his musings, but he refused to turn and acknowledge it. A hood covered his bald head and he hated it. He hated its very presence because it reminded him that he was cold without it. It reminded him _why_ he was cold without it. "Come to check on me?"

Romel didn't answer, just took a stand on the slate next to Edmund. "You sound better."

"But I don't look it?"

"That wasn't what I said." The bite in his tone alerted the young man that he was pushing even the friendliest of borders. Romel sighed and regretted the animosity. "I'm bald. _I_ don't complain." he rumbled.

Edmund huffed. "By choice." It reminded him what choice he had been stripped of. His freedom. His right to _not_ burn for sins he hadn't committed.

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. The cordial healed me. The hair will grow back. All should be fine."

"But it's not?"

Edmund glanced at him and huffed again. "I was burned alive, Romel. Can you even imagine how painful that was?"

He shrugged. "I've died in a lot of different ways, King Edmund."

The dark-eyed youth growled. "There's that _king_ again. I don't like it coming from you."

"Would you prefer _pup_?" the Irin snarled.

"No."

Romel could feel his frustration building. He turned back to the landscape. He wondered what Arthur would have said to the boy. No doubt the red-head could have had him laughing in minutes. "Why _does_ it bother you so much?" He wasn't sure. A king should like being shown the respect he deserved. "I mean you mentioned it already back at Cair Paravel."

Edmund sighed into the air when a warm breath of air caressed his neck and made him shiver. "I don't know, Romel." His attitude was worse than the Irin had ever seen it. Of course he hadn't known Edmund before the boy came to Narnia so he had no point of reference.

Romel's thoughts fluttered back to every conversation he and the king had had since meeting. "I thought you had settled in." He didn't know where it came from, but it was a question he had carried for a while. "I thought you liked it here? Wanted back."

Edmund's eyes watered. "I do."

"But not the _king_ part?"

"Yes, of _course_." Edmund growled. He couldn't explain his reluctance any more than he could explain his foul mood. He should be grateful that his brother had even come. That he even brought the cordial. And yet there was a part of him that had expected more. In an ideal world he would never have needed a rescue. He wondered a moment if Romel's words were true. But the reluctance didn't feel recent. It felt like something he had carried for a while. For so long he couldn't remember life before it. Suddenly Romel had a point. His words were truer that Edmund would like. "Ashay didn't seem to like the fact that I was king either." He bowed his head into the sunset and felt the guilt of betrayal heavily. _He_ hadn't been abandoned. He had abandoned others. Those who loved him. Aslan. How could he have expected to be saved when he didn't even really have faith in the one who once gave his life for him?

"Ashay was an orphan who had a father for the first time in his life." Romel interrupted his private musings. "He didn't know Jazir had died. Maybe he didn't fit Ashay's image of what a father should be. Maybe he harbored some resentment over that."

"Maybe he was right," Edmund wondered. "About me." His voice had softened to a fearful whisper. Had Ashay's toxic words held a grain of truth like Romel's?

The Irin looked at him in surprise. "You don't honestly believe that."

The young king huffed as a tear traced the line of his jaw. "Why shouldn't I? Why else would this happen to me?" He had felt unfitting as king since the day he returned after his trip with the Irins. It was a minor change in the midst of a whirlwind of changes, but he should have realized it sooner. Identified it for what it was.

Romel felt familiar anger at the thought of Aslan. He knew the name was right on the tip of Edmund's tongue. "Sometimes bad people do bad things." His anger was bleeding onto Edmund. "Sometimes they won't stop until someone stops them."

"A _person_ didn't stop Ashay, his own fear did. Something greater than a person."

"Aslan isn't real."

Edmund mashed his jaw shut as another tear fell. "He is to us." he ground out. "Why you're so unwilling to believe in Him, I'll never understand."

"How _can_ you!" Romel roared. "All he's ever done is make you think you deserved to be burned. No one deserves that."

More tears fell from Edmund's eyes. "Yes, b-but how do you know?" His voice sounded congested like a little child's.

The Irin felt like exploding. Why, for everything holy, did every Narnian have to be crazy? "You can't hide away from yourself by cowering behind imaginary creatures. You can't rationalize everything with the phrase 'God wills it'." His voice was harder than he intended. Especially when he saw Edmund's shoulders shake with contained sobs. When the boy's eyes overflowed with tears. "When will you _wake up_!" He stepped forward and saw Edmund flinch back.

With a loud exhale, and not knowing what else to do, he turned and stomped off. Leaving the young king to his tears. Edmund stayed rooted to the spot until a soothing presence suddenly warmed his back. "What happened, Edmund?" It was his brother.

Instead of answering Edmund allowed his sobs to run rampant and leaned in to the warm embrace.

"Shh, shh, little brother." Peter whispered. "Did someone say something?"

Edmund cried harder when he realized Peter hadn't seen. That he would have to explain everything eventually. His stubborn brother would very likely force him, but for now it seemed Peter was content just holding onto his brother like a drowning man.

"Shh, calm down." he whispered.

Edmund didn't know it, but the vantage point wasn't as hidden as he had thought.

"Deep breaths." Peter's voice was hardly more than an exhale. His rhythmic breaths went a long way to calm the younger man. His warm arms were like a cocoon that Edmund would gladly hide in.

Only once did he try to answer, but it ended in even fiercer cries so he stopped. Instead he did what he had perfected since the age of five, and buried everything. Stored it away for his nightmares. It was a while, though Edmund didn't know how long, before his brother gently shook him and guided them away. All the way to the tent Peter kept his arms tight around the younger king. He called for someone to bring the food to their tent. He guided them inside, smoothly dismissing the healers. Their Just King was fine and just needed some rest.

Even their sisters were shut out for the night. Lucy whipped up a storm that could easily be heard through the entire camp, but she never entered thetent. Edmund didn't quite hear what happened. Only Lucy's yells and Susan's soft, muffled voice. Then silence. He was grateful. He loved his sisters. They were so different and he loved each one differently, but Lucy would never be the one he went to for comfort. He would never worry her with his own pain. Never had.

It had always been Peter or Susan. Though Susan was very much like Edmund in some ways it was different for her. She often went to any of her siblings, according to which sibling she figured could help. Or sometimes just the one who was near. But she was a woman and she was startled by different things than Edmund. Lucy found support in all of them, but she was youngest so it was somewhat expected.

The reason he didn't go to his sisters for support very often, Edmund mused, was because the things that upset him would surely upset them as well. And the very last thing he wanted was for his girls to be pulled into his darkness. The darkness he and Peter shared to some extent.

And Peter. His brave brother. For years Peter had been the oldest in every sense. He had comforted and dapped feverish foreheads. He had kissed bleeding knees and eased hurt feelings. It was only as Edmund grew older, as the two shared more and more of the horrors on the battlefield, Peter learned to trust him. To rely on his comfort when it was something he couldn't handle himself.

And even to this day Edmund knew how much his brother hated himself when he fell apart. He was supposed to be invincible. And it seemed the only one who didn't know he wasn't, was Peter himself.

Edmund's tears had tapered off. He was lying against his brother's chest on one of the cots that had been put together for them. The Dwarves insisted that hammocks were crude and ugly. "And why", they asked, "sleep in a glorified flour bag when it took just as long to build a cot as it did to hang up a hammock?" That night Edmund couldn't complain. He liked the idea of having a bed to crawl into.

"What are you thinking?" Peter asked quietly after almost an hour of silence.

"About beds versus hammocks." he muttered in a flat voice.

Peter smiled. Though Edmund couldn't see it, he knew. "They _are_ rather nice, aren't they?" Peter moved them further onto the cot. "I wonder how the masons can put them together in such a short time."

"They're Dwarves. They can do anything." His voice was still miserably flat, but Peter puffed.

"I'm inclined to believe you."

Edmund offered a little hum in acceptance, and said nothing further. He hoped Peter would allow the conversation to drift off, but no such luck.

"What happened today?" he asked tentatively. "Why were you crying when I found you?"

Despite his better judgment he knew he would tell Peter everything. He was too tired to take a stand. "Romel found me." he mumbled into the soft fabric of his brother's shirt.

Peter tensed beneath him, and roused his brother a bit from the sleep he had been easing into.

"Don't go off on him. It wasn't really his fault." he begged.

"I suppose you made _yourself_ cry?"

"Pretty much," Edmund mumbled. He knew Peter didn't believe him when said brother huffed. When he didn't speak the tension climbed until Edmund could almost taste it. "I wish I could just stay here forever." he whispered. His longing voice chased any thoughts of retaliation from Peter's mind.

"At the rest stop?" He sounded confused.

"No. Inhere." He wanted to sleep forever. Or at least until the whole ordeal about his burning was forgotten.

"You can't hide, Edmund." Peter said in his knowing voice. "You have a family that needs you. A country."

"I wish I didn't." He took a deep breath and felt a shiver in his chest. He hoped he wouldn't start crying again. "Sometimes I wish we weren't royals. That we didn't have a country to run." He huffed. "Is that horrible?"

Peter's face saddened, though his brother never saw. Only his long strokes over Edmund's bald head and back suggested a hint of sadness. "It's not horrible. Sometimes I wish that too." he confessed in a whisper.

The just king looked up at his brother. "Really?"

Peter smiled at the innocent tone to his brother's voice, but it faded when he took in the sorrow he saw as well. "What did Romel say to you?" His voice was soothing. He forced it to be. Edmund blinked slowly and Peter saw his reluctance melt away. "Tell me."

"He doesn't believe in Aslan," Edmund whispered, as if it was a sin to utter it himself. "How can he not believe in something we know exists?" What he really wanted to ask was why Romel couldn't trust him.

"Do you remember Spare Oom?" Peter asked relatively out of nowhere. He wasn't sure how to answer his brother, but knew what he felt about the question. "That glowing city where we once lived?"

"Glimpses." Edmund mumbled. He didn't think about it much these days. "Smells."

"Do you remember how the Narnians all believed us without question? They accepted that we were from another world without a trace of distrust."

"Yeah?"

Peter swallowed and tried to think of a way to make his brother feel better. Because it wasn't about defending Romel. It wasn't about convincing one or the other. "Well I think the Irins might think they've seen everything." He looked at the canvas wall. "I think they might be too tired to consider there might be an entire world they haven't yet discovered."

Edmund didn't answer or comment. His eyes drifted to the same spot that held his brother's gaze. There they lingered. He wondered how many worlds there were. Narnia was one. Spare Oom another. The one he and his siblings never spoke about, a third. "Do you think I can become who I was?" he asked. He felt so small in his brother's arms. I was easy to forget his responsibilities. "I was once good."

"You still are." Peter whispered and ran a hand over his head. "You're still the same man, only older. You've grown- we've all grown." he reiterated. "It's the state of things. They grow." He sat back and cracked his neck with a deep moan. "Besides I don't think Aslan would've created things that way if He didn't want us to grow."

Edmund's eyes were fixed on nothing as he took in his brother's words. "Makes sense."

"Of course it does." They both heard the attempt at lightheartedness in his voice. Nothing was said. Peter kept his brother close and Edmund allowed himself to drown out the rest of the world. A pot of glowing coals stood in the corner of their tent. Someone had thrown a lump of resin on it along with rosemary and lavender to scent the room. Along with the coals, a dimmed lantern lit the tent in a cozy glow. Outside they heard talking. No one was playing any music, not even the Fauns. No one was laughing.

"I did this." Edmund said, thinking of the absence of song and laughter. Peter turned down to look at him. "I worried them."

Peter looked in the direction of the opening. The same direction his brother was staring. "We both do once in a while. Just ask Oreius. Or our sisters."

It didn't bring the smile to Edmund's face that his brother had hoped for. "How did we make it better before?"

Peter sank deeper into the bed and pulled his brother a little higher. Edmund allowed himself to be maneuvered around until his brother found a comfortable position. "We went outside and sat down in front of a fire. You would tell a joke and people would laugh." A smile crept onto his face.

"I don't feel like joking."

The smile faded and sadness suddenly filled Peter's eyes. "They're worried about you, Edmund." he whispered.

"I know." the Just whispered back. One arm was draped over his brother's chest.

"No." Peter's voice grew stronger. "Not the Narnians. The Irins. That was why Romel acted the way he did." Peter was still mad at him from what little of the conversation he had heard. It felt impossible not to be after everything they had put his brother through. But at the same time there was something tempering him. Some small part of him that recognized how easily worry turned to anger. How could he hate anyone that loved his brother?

"Are they still here?" Edmund's voice was so small.

Peter sighed and tucked his head under his chin. "They're waiting for you just like the rest of them."

"I don't know if I can face them."

"You'll have to one of these days." Peter was sorry he couldn't hide his brother. Curl around him and shelter him from the world, but he knew it would do more harm than good. "You have to do it. Not for yourself, but for _them_." They were both staring at the tent opening though it was closed. After so many years they could easily imagine their friends, sitting outside. "Aslan gave us a great blessing, but I think he blessed the Narnians even more. We do it for them, Edmund." He kissed the hairless crown. "Not for ourselves."

Something very heavy fell from Edmund's heart. His shoulders unclenched though he hadn't known they were tight. A pleasant tingle spread through his entire body and his eyes blinked slowly as he was pulled closer to real rest. "I don't want to face them tonight."

Peter kissed his head again. "It can wait, Little Brother. It can wait."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> I've realized something quite astonishing. I actually don't like Edmund or the Pevensies very much. I much prefer Romel's view of life. It caught me by surprise because I always pictured the Irins as flawed. Like half finished sculptures, waiting to be completed. The only thing that negates the Pevensies' blind faith is the fact that Aslan is proven to be real in the books. Huh... Sorry. I'm apparantly a realist (reluctantly).


	36. Chapter 35: The Emperor

**Disclaimer:** I own naught.

**Author's Note:** There is a very good reason I've chosen Rillian as one of the names for the nomad. Can you guess why that is? I'm wondering how to end this story. A part of me wants to wrap it up slightly despite having another on the way, but it could also be neat to end it like the beginning of another story. What do you all say? Would you like me to save the epilogue for the last one? Actually no, I've just made my decision, looking at my question Thank you. The italics are from Wikipedia, I'm ashamed to say. Now go read.

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><p><strong>Chapter 35: "The Emperor"<strong>

"_The Emperor symbolizes the desire to rule over one's surroundings, and its appearance in a reading often suggests that the subject needs to accept that some things may not be controllable, and others may not benefit from being controlled."_

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><p>The last of the civil army dispersed once the company reached Rush River. Those who lived nearby went home. When they reached the Oak Circle there were only royal soldiers left, and most of them lived in the castle. The sight that greeted them was enough to force the breath out of their lungs. When they left the castle and surrounding meadows had been in horrible shape, but everyone had witnessed the transformation. They had seen the grass get singed by fiery arrows and heard some of the Oak Trees scream as they were knocked over or set on fire.<p>

In the time away it seemed they had all forgotten how bad it truly looked. Lucy and her guards hadn't yet seen and fell silent in horror. Peter could easily relate. It seemed the only one who wasn't fazed was Susan. He suspected because she had been here when the rebuilding was begun. And true enough, a lot of work had been done in only a few weeks, but it still looked like a war zone compared to its usual innocence.

No one liked to see their home in such a state.

They were greeted as returned heroes, but very few of them felt as such. Especially not the sovereigns. Out of the four of them it was only Susan who tried to get back to work within minutes of stepping through the main gates. She was politely denied any chance to wear herself out even further, by Sir Giles Fox and Panicus.

The other three simply dismounted and watched as soldiers began helping stable boys and masons getting their provisions squared away. Neither of them thought to help. Lucy had circles under her eyes and Edmund looked almost frightened. It was then Peter made his first executive decision, in what felt like weeks. "Off to bed, c'mon." He cupped his hands on Lucy and Edmund's backs and ushered them inside. Susan was tugged along as well. Six guards, including Oreius, followed them to their rooms.

No one noticed, or spoke of it, when all siblings entered Peter and Edmund's room together. The royals went to sleep. Lucy and Susan in Edmund's bed. Peter and his brother in his. They slept through the day and the night as well. That one night none of them had any nightmares, but they would soon come.

Looking over his home Edmund felt at peace again. It was a fresh day. Cool winds swept the land, but not enough to freeze. The reconstruction of Cair Paravel was going smoothly and the cleaning was almost done. Farmers from the Southern Marshes had come to replant the fields outside the castle. Dryads from deep within the Western Wild had come to tend to the battered Hamadryads. They were replanting acorns into Oaks. Naiads were rerouting adjacent rivers to irrigate, and quicken the growing process.

Animals of every kind were hopping around, helping. Injured were still being tended to, but slowly sent home. As the loud sounds of hammers hitting metal faded, the castle grew quieter. Over the days the silence became the predominant state, and the royals began to get bored. They were still bared access to any kind of strenuous, physical labor. Court was temporarily closed, and would not have been much use even if it wasn't. No one felt like complaining. Everyone was suddenly aware of how close they had come to very real destruction.

The kings were growing restless. Susan and Lucy had found other means of keeping busy since not being allowed back into their usual routines. Lucy had gone off to visit Mr. Tumnus for the first time in a while.

Susan had ridden to Glasswater to greet the Galmanian High Duke. Ayel Maeon-Tal who ruled Tal City as his father before him and _his_ father before _him_. He was a very proud man, but oddly humble at the same time. He favored Susan and Lucy more than his own daughters, and had nothing but respect for the kings. His ship had arrived early in the day and Susan had ridden out to greet them, leaving Edmund and Peter in Oreius' service.

Their general explained the state of the castle. The majority of the damage had been done to the thatch houses in the lower courtyards. Roofs had burned away, leaving several stables with gaping holes. With autumn on its way _that_ took priority. Many of the Animals and Creatures were helping the masons rebuild and so Peter set to work. He assigned himself to the rebuilding of the main stable, under the gentle tutelage of Herring the Dwarf. He was a feisty, little man with wiry, red hair and a puffy beard.

"No, no, no! The beams go on the _other_ side of the building. This side inn't ready for structural work yet!"

The Dogs that had dragged the beams hung their tails and hurried to pull the beams as directed. Peter was hammering in finely made nails, having finally talked Oreius into letting him do manual labor. Half the roof was up though all of it still needed thatching to be completely finished. The sun was climbing higher and burning more fiercely. It was a while since he had removed his shirt to only work in breeches. He was already sweating. At the end of summer it seemed the sun always utilized every second to its fullest. To offset the hot sun a cold air sometimes swept into the courtyard. It was usually sheltered because of its high walls, but working so high meant being more exposed.

Edmund had passed by about an hour earlier and warned his brother about the damages of sunburn. Peter suspected Edmund was just jealous that he couldn't get a tan even if he rolled in fire. The thought struck him like a kick. He froze, hammer raised above his head, waiting to strike another nail on the head. His breathing quickened before he could realize it. Only when Herring barked at him, mistaking him for someone, or _–thing_ else, did Peter wake. He glanced at the Dwarf with shock written on his face and the carpenter quickly lost his zeal. He wilted a little, apologized to the king, and hurried down the latters that were placed every few feet.

Peter said nothing of it and hoped Herring didn't report his concern to the healers. They would have a field day once they learned their king had been exposed to harsh sunlight and cold winds. For the rest of that day Peter couldn't seem to focus. It was only after the sixth time he had hammered his own finger that he was ordered to rest. Herring had gotten reinforcements from Oreius. The Centaur could almost have reached up and hauled Peter down without the use of a latter, but chose a more dignified approach.

To which Peter was immensely glad. He carefully dismounted the skeleton roof on his own steam. He was accompanied to his room by the general and only stopped once the two were inside. "Where's Edmund?"

"Word came from the nomads. Some have already left Archenland and are here in Narnia. King Edmund went to speak with them."

Peter resisted the gentle nudges to get him in the room. "Well I should go with him."

"Your Majesty." It was deep and slightly threatening, the way only Oreius could say it, and Peter found himself accepting that he would not be leaving his room within the next hour. He closed the door behind him and glanced out the window as he removed his clothes. It wasn't until he slipped under the covers he suddenly felt tired. He had worked hard, but hardly more than he was used to. Perhaps Oreius was right in that he needed rest? He couldn't quite understand why, but felt surer and surer that his general was right. Just before he slipped completely into unconsciousness he vowed he would never again disobey Oreius when it came to napping.

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><p>Edmund had taken Phillip and a small group of royal guards with him when he heard nomads were entering Narnia. They didn't ride far before they spotted some of them. Small groups were beginning to move north-west, away from the main groups, still in Archenland. Edmund scoured the groups for Zoren, but saw no sign of him.<p>

He figured the patriarch was still in Archenland with the rest of his guild. Instead he found someone he hadn't expected. Rillian Zlatari Eshkol came walking with his wife's family. "Rillian." Edmund greeted and dismounted before Phillip could come to a complete stop.

The Horse drew a few stares when he bit out a snarky remark about careless kings. He instantly drew the attention of all the children. Soon he had a whole flock of little ones, crowding him, pulling on straps and petting his soft nozzle.

Edmund ignored the scene and moved over to shake Rillian's hand. "King Edmund." The nomad happily greeted the king though he looked a might bit surprised.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, but I heard nomads were moving north and I wanted to speak with you."

"Of course." The young man was quietly joined by his wife and her father.

Edmund nodded in greeting.

"Your Majesty, this is my wife Tema Eshkol and her father Horen Eshkol."

Edmund nodded and wondered why Horen wasn't introduced as patriarch. "I confess that I came for a specific reason."

Rillian nodded encouragingly.

"I wonder, have you seen Whillam Luri since Anvard?"

The young man nodded. "He is moving his house north. Back home. We offered to accompany them as protection, but they declined. I believe they are but a few hours ahead of us."

Edmund nodded and wanted most of all to speed out of there. He bid Rillian, Horen and Tema politely goodbye before he hurried over to Phillip. Though the Horse pretended to be annoyed with all the little ones he was happily nipping away at scruffy bangs. Edmund smiled and easily petted a child in passing. The little girl giggled at his touch and stuck her fingers in her mouth as he mounted. "Move out!" he called to his guard. They left in an impressive display of uniformed Animals, Creatures and dust.

They moved swiftly and reached a second group of nomads only an hour later. The group was walking quietly through the forest, looking like they were in no particular hurry. "Whillam Luri." Edmund called out. His sharp eyes scoured the group of about thirty. "Pater Whillam Luri?"

A fair-haired man at the center of the group turned. He nodded when he and Edmund made eye contact. Again dismounting Edmund left Phillip with the rest of the guards as he approached the patriarch. When he reached him he offered a curt nod and received one in return. "Master Luri."

"King Edmund." the nomad returned with a crooked smile. "I was hoping for a chance to speak with you."

Edmund's eyes widened in a lightning quick motion. "Likewise."

Whillam stepped aside and offered him to follow. It seemed as if the nomad had signaled his entire house to stop without a single word. People took off their loads and sent children out to gather firewood. Again it wasn't long before Phillip and the rest of the guards had drawn quite the crowd. Edmund smiled at a Cheetah, a slender female, when a toddler hobbled over to where she was seated and thumped down right in front of her. His smile blossomed when she smirked at the toddler and pushed him playfully. The youth's cry of joy echoed through the camp and made several adults pause.

"Please, sit." Whillam gestured to a log that had hastily been placed in front of a small fire. Already a sack had been hung to boil tea. Water was dripping through the skin, making the flames sizzle. Edmund had severe troubles looking away from the fire, but sat down.

Whillam watched him carefully. "We could move if the fire bothers you?"

Edmund looked up and wordlessly shook his head. It did, but it wasn't overwhelming. Yet.

"What do you wish to speak with me about?" Whillam asked carefully, sensing the young man's unease.

"Ab-About where you're going." His eyes shot back to the fire whenever he caught an erratic movement in his peripheral.

"We are heading into the mountains of the north. The vast forests are our home."

"What about ogres and Telmarines?" They still couldn't account for the numbers of either group. It bothered him to no end to think there was still a looming threat in those woods.

Whillam smiled quickly and received two cups from a young woman. He dipped them into the tea, seemingly oblivious to the boiling water. He wiped one down and offered it to Edmund. "We know the forest well. It is part of us as we are part of it."

Oddly disturbed by his calm attitude towards possible death and destruction, Edmund eyed him wearily and tried the tea. It was very good. Smooth and a little sweet. Mild. A sharp aftertaste. He lowered the cup and swallowed. He was angled away from the fire, but could easily have put more distance between him and it. "I wanted to thank you for your help in Tashbaan."

Whillam saluted him with the cup and simultaneously bowed.

"I wanted you to know that we'll return the favor in any way we can." He looked around the encampment. "If you need any provisions or horses…" His inquiry died off when he took in the amused smile on the patriarch's face.

"Are you sure you only came to return a favor?"

Edmund thought it strange how drawn he felt to this man. He was short compared to Ed and his brother. Had a rather bland face, but there was something very magnetic about him. Something captivating, much like that certain something Lucy possessed. He imagined the man was quite the public speaker as well. "I wondered about your history,"

Whillam nodded. "We live differently than the nomads."

"Why?"

"We lived with them once. My great great grandfather established the system that still rules today. I do not know if the system still fits the world, though. It feels a bit…" He looked around at his people. "…antiquated."

Edmund followed his gaze. "Was that why you left?"

Whillam shook his head. "My grandfather left because he no longer felt as part of his people." The patriarch smiled. "I suppose that is still valid."

"What do you mean?"

"I cannot tell you the exact reason my grandfather left all those years ago, but I can tell you why I stay away. Why these people follow me." Edmund looked on with rapt attention. "I am not sure I could bend to the will of others. I have very little respect for the gold Zlatari mines, bends and sells. I care not for horses, bred by the Lyuli, when people can carry tents and supplies just as well."

"Will you come back next summer?" He wasn't sure where the inquiry came from, but he hoped the answer was yes. Something about Whillam was wildly appealing.

The nomad drew his shoulders up. "I am not sure."

Edmund nodded, having the strange sense that he might never see the man again. "You shouldn't hide," he said very softly, afraid of insulting him. He realized how wildly inappropriate the unsought council was when Whillam's eyes widened.

The patriarch stared at the young king a moment. Edmund wore a hood to cover the hair Whillam knew was missing. His eyes were guarded and he appeared to be wearing a mask over his true expression. Very guarded. And yet he had struck a nerve. The patriarch watched him closely a moment before he ventured to speak again. "You are probably right." It had taken the middle aged man by surprise to hear those exact words spoken. Especially when he knew the king must've wanted to hide himself. Probably had been.

"I know I'm not the person to advise such action, but it seems a shame." He looked around at the people. The Cheetah, along with the other Narnians though each had their own way of showing it, was wildly entertained by the children. The Great Cats looked very much like they usually did. Almost as if playing with a mouse, though the hungry look Edmund could easily identify wasn't there.

"Likewise." Whillam ventured at a moment when the king looked relaxed.

Edmund flinched back to stare at him, unsure whether to reprimand him for taking such liberties, or thank him. He settled for a nod, but the patriarch seemed to understand. "Thank you for your time, Pater Whillam Luri."

He gathered both hands as if in prayer and nodded to Edmund. Then rose and walked the king back to his guards. Phillip swished his tail and looked up when Edmund suddenly appeared. He puffed and quickly pretended to be annoyed with the children, all clamoring for his attention. "Ready?" Edmund asked.

The Horse nodded and lipped at some of the kids in farewell. As Edmund mounted the rest of his company stood to attention as well. He turned to Whillam. "If you ever visit my home again, I'd like it if we could speak."

Whillam offered another, small bow and smiled. "As you wish."

Edmund spun his mount around and sped away from the camp. He didn't know why, but the meeting with Whillam had warmed him. He felt lighter somehow and smiled to himself when the party leapt through the narrow paths and small creeks. It dawned on him that they were heading home and that he was excited to return.

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><p>His arrival caused a stir. Ayel Maeon-Tal had arrived and everyone was trying to clear the place up <em>after<em> him and his men had already gone inside the castle. Edmund called the Dwarf he believed to be in charge and told him to concentrate on work. Never mind the mess. He didn't stay to witness the Dwarf's shocked expression and nor did he really care. He felt different. Not just lighter, but something else as well. Jumping lightly up stairs, two at the time, he reached up and scratched his head. He stopped when his hand caught the sensation of stubble. Tiny, soft hairs dotted his scalp underneath the hood. They were just long enough to tickle certain spots on his ears.

He couldn't help the smile that lifted his face. He sped through the halls until he ran into the guards in front of the doors to the private quarters. "Hullo, have you seen my siblings?"

The guards took in his wide smile with surprised expressions. "I believe they are in the east wing, King Edmund."

Edmund wondered what they were doing in the public area. The Duke was a friend and usually treated like family. He hurried down high-ceilinged halls, packed with all manner of creatures. He stopped when he found the only door around with four guards attached. Two of them were Galmanian. Men he knew. He nodded in greeting and received small smiles in return.

Inside sat his three siblings with Ayel around a tall table. It was one of the more formal sitting rooms, designed for the humans that often visited Cair Paravel. The second he entered the room Ayel swung out of his seat. "Greetings, King Edmund," He bowed and extended his hand when Edmund did.

"Greetings, Ayel. What brings you here?" He smiled and received one in return.

"I came when I heard the news, your Majesty." He turned slightly to include the others.

"Won't you sit down, Edmund?" Susan asked. "He was just telling us about the state of things on Galma."

Edmund took a seat quickly. Ayel followed and placed his hands evenly on the fine table. "Rumors that Narnia ventured to war reached us too late for us to be of much service, but I insisted to journey here to learn what had happened from Yourselves." His concern was evident as he looked at them, especially when he looked at Susan.

"Cair Paravel was attacked." Lucy said. As Edmund watched her he thought she looked more relaxed than just a few days prior. It was then he realized he had still been smiling when he entered. That her face looked like she was just about to smile. "Our sister protected it until my brothers could return home." Even speaking about the battle she looked completely calm. The steely influence he was used to from her.

Ayel looked severely disturbed by the news. "And what of Calormen? Are the rumors true?" He turned to Edmund and Peter.

It was the older of the two that answered. "The former Tisroc kidnapped our sister Lucy," He glanced very quickly in her direction. "We retaliated in order to get her back."

"And the Tisroc?" he asked cautiously with a futile glance at Edmund.

"Shehyzan Tarkaan is dead." Peter answered. "Furthermore it seems Rabadash Tarkaan conspired to kill his brothers and succeeded on three accounts. One escaped and Rabadash was killed within the castle by our men." He had to contract every muscle from his chest up in order not to look at his brother when he said that.

"Which one escaped?"

"Hebu. The second oldest of the brothers. He's a diplomat. A politician, not a soldier." Edmund answered. He leaned across the table, feeling ridiculous in his hood. Suddenly wanting to take it off. His mood was rapidly rubbing off on his siblings.

"You hope he will negotiate with you?" Ayel asked meekly.

Edmund inclined his head in a sort-of nod before he shot a conspiring look at his brother.

"We hope so." Peter answered softly.

Ayel looked thoughtfully at the table another moment before he nodded. "Very well, your Majesties. What will you have me do?"

Susan and Peter shared a look before she answered. "Send your navy to The Lone Islands. See if everyone knows, if not spread the word." Her tone was very gentle and Ayel was completely engrossed. "You might have to ensure them that everything is under control. We imagine that Calormene trade ships will be fewer, but we will do our very best to ensure their continuance."

"I plan to take a trip east, Ayel." Lucy said with a quick smile. "I am hoping to reach the very tip of The Lone Islands and I'll be stopping in Galma and Terebinthia along the way."

The duke smiled. "We shall look forward to your visit, Queen Lucy."

"Thank you." she said with a genuine smile.

By that point Edmund's mood had reached everyone at the table. Even Ayel was smiling a little, soothed by his sovereign's words. "How long will you be staying for, my Lord?" Edmund asked after a moment of silence.

Ayel looked up in surprise, for he had quite happily been staring at the tabletop. "For a week, your Majesty."

"Excellent. Have you and your men been given rooms?"

He nodded and smiled fully. "Everything is satisfactory." He rose in a smooth movement and bowed to the kings and queens. Peter and Edmund rose with him and bowed back before he left the room.

Both kings sat down with a sigh. Peter looked at his sisters. Susan first, who smiled at him. Then Lucy, who looked terribly ashamed for some reason he couldn't fathom. And yet it made him strangely satisfied to see her slightly subdued after the weeks of poor behavior.

Edmund buried his face in his hands and began rubbing sore muscles. In the same movement he wiped the hood off his head and ran his hand over the stubble. He wondered if it was visible yet. "My hair is growing back." he mumbled into the table.

His siblings all woke up a bit and looked at him in surprise. "So soon?" Without invitation Susan reached out and petted her brother's head.

Edmund sat quietly and let her. His face softened when Peter smiled. "You can finally get rid of that hood."

The younger brother huffed in agreement. "Can I feel?" Lucy reached across the table and ran her quick hands over his head. She smiled peculiarly. "It feels like hairs on a peach."

"They do not!" Edmund's voice rose several octaves in indignation.

Lucy giggled along with Peter. "Let me feel," His brother reached over and rubbed Edmund's head with his calloused hands before the younger could move away. "They're a little longer…" He pondered.

"They do not feel like peaches!" Edmund barked, but settled when he noticed all three of them were smiling again. "At least tell me they're black?"

With a rare, mischievous glint in her eye Susan pretended to study him. "…Well,"

Edmund's mouth tightened into a little rosebud and his eyes beamed pure irritation. "I refuse to become blond like Peter."

"And red hair would look ridiculous on you," Lucy joined.

Susan chuckled and snaked out of her seat. She probably had a dozen things to do. "I agree with Lucy. You should strive for black." She leaned down and gave his head a peck.

"It _is_ black." Edmund growled before she left the room. She smiled in parting.

Peter clapped his back and pulled him out of the seat. "C'mon, we have a castle to clean and _you_ have to go talk to the Irins."

"What for?" Edmund asked.

"Well is seems Archer might have some unpleasant history with the duke." Lucy rose as well.

Edmund frowned at both his siblings.

"You didn't wonder why we were in the public wing?" Peter asked.

Ignoring the second question Edmund looked at his sister. "What history?" He was beginning to make a little more sense and felt for some reason as if he had dodged an arrow.

Neither of his siblings answered him. "Would you like me to speak with Ayel about the trade routes?" Lucy asked instead. Edmund took the cue. They wanted _him_ to speak with Archer. They wanted him to hear it for himself.

With considerable effort he pulled his thoughts back to Lucy's question. They had agreed to ship more raw grain to Galma and The Lone Islands until the trade agreement with Calormen could be redone.

"That would be nice." he said as Peter swung both arms around his shoulders from the back. He was being guided out the door, Lucy trailing in their wake. "Are you sure you don't want either of us to help you?"

"I'm sure." she said with a smile.

Peter pushed Edmund on and looked carefully back at Lucy. The two shared a moment before he left to follow his brother. The high king felt relieved to recognize his sister again. To no longer see a stranger when he looked at her. Edmund was beginning to return again as well, after an absence that was longer than Peter had initially realized. His brother hadn't seemed so relaxed for years. It was a welcome change in the two young ones, but Peter wasn't sure what had caused it. He hoped the things he learned from Romel didn't chase it away completely.

The brothers would talk later in the evening, but for the moment he was content to just accept the changes he saw.

Edmund parted from his siblings and headed towards the rooms the Irins had been given. In the common room he found Romel and Thale, quietly eating while a boy played on the floor behind them. Edmund recognized the boy from the Air Castle. "I just had a very interesting conversation with my siblings." Edmund said as he entered, evading false greetings. He tried to forget the last conversation he and Romel had had.

"No doubt about Ayel Maeon-Tal." Romel said in a calm voice. "Should I get Archer for you?"

"If you don't mind," Edmund took a seat across from Thale and asked if the food was alright. The Irin had stopped eating when he entered.

"Very good, King Edmund. Thank you."

Before Edmund could answer Romel and Archer walked into the room. Romel gestured to Edmund and for Archer to take a seat. "'Ello, King Edmund." The rough man swung himself into the delicate furniture and leaned back casually.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"Course."

"Good, because I'm a little confused." He glanced at Romel. "My sister told me you and Ayel have history."

Archer cleared his throat with a subconscious glance at his commander. "Well I may have interacted with one of the less… _noble_ soldiers in my time there."

"Interacted?" Edmund deadpanned.

"Forcefully." Archer clarified.

"Aha, I see. Was anyone killed?" He dreaded the answer to his question. If Ayel learned of Archer's presence in Cair Paravel a formal investigation would have to be launched. His siblings had apparently gone above and beyond to keep the Irins out of sight.

"No, but the man was a high-up."

"His name?" Edmund would need information if he was to contain the situation. He knew already now that he would do whatever it took to keep Archer safe from prosecution.

"Simon."

"Last name?" Archer frowned thoughtfully before he shrugged. Edmund let out a deep sigh. "Very well. I assume you're aware of the consequences should Ayel discover that you're here?"

Archer nodded and instantly looked a little smaller. "Romel explained them to me, yeah."

"He's staying for a week. You're confined to this room until he leaves." Edmund announced and rose from his seat.

"What!" the Galmanian barked.

He turned on the Irin and actually _felt_ the king in him like he once did so strongly. Had Peter been there he would've said it was because Edmund was tired. "I admit to being very biased in this matter and should Ayel be made aware of your presence I will be put in a very uncomfortable situation." He kept his voice light as all personal feelings were buried. He suddenly remembered that his hood was off. "This problem could possibly create a rift between Narnia and Galma if I had to choose between you and him. You wouldn't want that for me, would you?" he arched a brow and almost smiled when Archer made himself even smaller.

"No, your Majesty." he said sullenly.

Edmund nodded and tried not to laugh outright. "See to it that he doesn't forget, will you?" he asked Romel.

The Irin nodded, looking more than a little pleased as well. "You have my word, pup."

With a final nod Edmund turned and left the room. He would never tell the Irins how much it really affected him to be placed in such a position, but hoped that somehow Romel knew. That he appreciated the loyalty. Edmund hadn't been lying when he said it would be next to impossible to choose between his friends and the best interest of his country. Had he been asked two months ago the answer would have been easy. The good of Narnia always came first.

But something had changed. The Irins were the least of it. They weren't just his friends any longer. They were his subjects. His charges. _They_ were part of Narnia as much as anyone else. As he left the castle to join his brother in the cleaning he hoped Ayel never discovered that his king had lied to him. He also made a note to send a spy to Galma and investigate the soldier Archer had attacked. Because he had little doubt that _that_ was what had really happened. He couldn't imagine it any other way.

He found his brother on the unfinished roof of the main stable, about to swing a hammer. The sun was bright that day. A cool breeze was helping keep the heat at bay. And with a conscious decision Edmund chose to ignore the problems and focus on what he _could_ control. He grabbed a hammer and climbed up next to his brother.

* * *

><p>The week passed without the High Duke of Galma suspecting the sovereigns' betrayal. Each of them felt very guilty for lying to him, but Edmund hadn't even had to ask if they would do it. Even Peter seemed adamant that the Irins deserved their protection just as much as anybody else. It made Edmund insanely happy, and more than a little relieved, to know he was no longer alone in his love for the people who had saved him on more than one occasion.<p>

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So sorry for the wait. I feel my own interest in this story dwindling a little and it's probably rubbing off on you. I sincerely apologize. I made the chapter longer than usual and edited the hell out of it for you. These are the final stages before the story is almost completely wrapped up. Stick with me for just a little longer, guys.


	37. Chapter 36: The Star

**Dislcaimer:** As always: Borrow, don't steal. All I own are the italics.

**Author's Note:** Uploading this to you in the middle of my Discours and Framing class.

**Unimprotant driblbe: **Hear ye, hear ye! I have sad news that in no way affects you, but I still wanna complain to as many as possible. Thank god for mass publishing. My harddrive, the harddrive that holds about 180 Gigs of my life, has crashed. That means, gentle reader, that ten years of writing hangs by a thread. I refuse to even consider to posibility that it cannot be salvaged. My world would crumble and collapse under the weight of melancholy. Not to mention the huge amount of music and movies on there. But in brighter news: This story is NOT on the harddrive :) Congratulations, you're safe.

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><p><strong>Chapter 36: "The Star"<strong>

"_Together they dance, and dance, and prance. In the sky around each other twirl. Twinkle, twinkle little star, shine a light near and far. Chase the shadows back a stride. Leave your light to light the tide."_

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><p>Autumn arrived and swept over the land in waves of orange, brown and red. Lucy's birthday wasn't far. Every inch of the kingdom was a flurry of excitement. A month had passed since the battle of Tashbaan. Everyone had healed, or were very near being fully healed. The days were shorter. The sun lingered low in the sky and cast a mesmerizing red glow over everything. Spider webs caught the rays of sunset and transformed them into goldthread. The apple orchards outside Cair Paravel and the barley fields all had to be harvested. Everyone helped. Lucy took advantage of the last warmth by walking around barefoot every chance she had.<p>

Harash had regained her toffee colored feathers and was back to playing chase with her brother. Edmund's hair as well, had almost regrown. Still far from its former glory, but at least it wasn't blond. He refused to let anyone near him with shears, claiming that he wanted it longer than it had been. Peter let his own hair grow as well. To his joy a beard seemed to be sprouting on his cheeks.

All across the country peace seemed to be the prevalent state. News had reached them from Tashbaan. Ashay hadn't been found yet, but Bismillah promised to keep searching. Hebu had returned and laid claim on the throne. For a while it seemed the peace might not last, but riots were subdued with promises of lowered taxes and better schools. Hebu even went so far as to extend official invitations to a summit. He explained he wanted to hold a council for all rulers in order to prevent something like the war from ever happening again.

Peter was never again sending his siblings to Calormen and was already trying to formulate a response so the summit could be held in Narnia. He knew many of the dukes of Calormen had never seen Narnia and figured it wouldn't be too difficult to lure them away from the desert. He also knew that the Tisroc was in the process of choosing his ministers and desperately wanted a chance to meet them before any binding agreements were made.

Lucy helpfully pointed out that it shouldn't be too hard to move the summit to Narnia since She _was_ sort of in the center of the known world.

The Agrippa brothers had moved to Narnia and given up their sinful ways. They now worked in sales, helping the Dwarves market their most exquisite wares. Mostly woodwork so far, but there was room for expansion. A less known career consisted in purchasing information from Tashbaan and Aswaan and passing it on to the kings and queens.

Susan had the country up and running by hosting feast after feast to draw in foreign dignitaries. She tracked down long lost dukes from the fringes of Archenland and Narnia and furthermore planned on throwing one long party in honor of Lucy and Peter's birthdays. The fair-haired siblings' birthdays were only within two weeks of one another. Susan hoped the presents would help fill up the treasury. She hated herself for it, but their country needed all the help it could get.

* * *

><p>Edmund was lying in bed two nights before the Autumn Feasts was scheduled to begin. His mind was going over the weeks of celebrations ahead. King Lune and his extended family had been invited. Duke Ayel had been invited to return, this time with his entire family. They would have to keep Archer out of sight. Even Terebinthia and the Lone Islands had been invited. No one knew how many would come.<p>

Peter was turning twenty two and Lucy was turning seventeen. Neither birthday would have warranted such festivities had the birthday boy and girl not been king and queen. Lucy was looking forward whilst Peter remained humble and awaiting. Sending shy glances at anyone who congratulated him. "What do you think Lucy will say to her present?" Edmund asked the dark room.

The only light was that from the full moon, but it was enough to keep him awake. Peter sighed and shifted. He couldn't sleep either, Edmund knew. "I think she'll love it." On nights like these they were usually out. Especially seeing as tomorrow was a day of rest.

The idea vexed Edmund until the point where he sat up. "I can't sleep, can you?"

Peter huffed. "No. My mind keeps going over everything." King Lune had joyfully accepted their invitation and promised to bring his entire family. On top they had heard rumors that a whole host of Archen dukes was on their way as well. "Do you think they will even fit in the Cair?" Peter pondered with his eyes fixed on his shrouded bed.

"I think it will try." he answered with a smile. It was a shared joke. Since Cair Paravel was so large it was near impossible to fill it. There were always hidden rooms no one noticed until they suddenly needed one. Edmund knew there were more than a few hidden armories and probably treasuries around as well.

Peter puffed out a laugh. "I don't think even Lucy knows all the ins and outs of this place."

"Susan does," Edmund fired of.

"How?" Peter sat up as well and met his brother's black eyes in the moonlight.

"She told me." Edmund shrugged. "It makes sense I suppose,"

"How?" he repeated in the same tone. "She's not usually one to run around exploring. That's Lucy's game."

Edmund smirked, thinking of the treasure hunts he and his sister had had in the early days of their reign. She always loved those. Back then they had been much more spontaneous. Nowadays there was hardly time to grab a drink of water unless it was scheduled. "Peter, have you ever met anyone more organized than our sister?" He smiled when his brother's expression became thoughtful. "Combine that with her curiosity and I don't think even the best of spies could keep something from her."

He let out a giggle. Silence fell again. Each boy was caught in his own musings until suddenly Peter spoke. "It seems silly to spend such a bright night inside." He sounded like Susan when she nagged them to get out more. "Do you think the girls are asleep?" He looked over at his brother when the urge to go outside suddenly became all-encompassing.

"I would be surprised if Lucy was even in bed. Susan is probably reading."

Peter let out a smile. "I thought I would crash after the day I've had." He rubbed his face, but didn't feel the usual weariness. For the first time in a while he felt alert.

"What happened?" Edmund asked. He had been on the training grounds with Celer and Oreius for most of the day. It was on the general's instance to work through his emotions from being burned. Edmund was happy to admit it was helping. Pounding his anger out in controlled bursts of violence seemed to be the cure for his ailments.

"Some of the fixtures in the grand hall were knocked loose during the siege. The Dwarves wanted more than we agreed for repairing them."

"Send them to me tomorrow. I'll deal with them." Edmund promised.

His brother let out another laugh. "I will." Both brothers indulged in a rare fit of giggles. Neither of them spoke of why they couldn't sleep. For Peter it was nerves over the upcoming celebrations. For Edmund they both knew it was more than nerves. "Would you like to get out of here?"

The dark king watched his brother a moment before he nodded and rolled out of bed. Both brothers were dressed within minutes. They greeted the surprised guards on their way and hurried to find their sisters. The Queens' common room was lit by the fireplace and Susan was sitting in her usual chair, reading a heavy book. She looked up when her brothers entered. "Can't sleep?" Peter asked.

She closed the book and shook her head. It was a while since she had been visited in the night by restless brothers, though most of _her_ nights were restless. "Where's Lucy?" Edmund asked, already heading for her door.

"In her room last I checked." She stayed in her chair when Peter came over and sat down. Edmund closed the door behind him and left the two eldest alone. "He's still not sleeping?" Her voice took on a sad note.

Peter's smile faded and he calmed down. "He still has nightmares every time he closes his eyes."

"Still afraid of fire too," Susan muttered and turned her gaze to the fireplace. Both elder siblings flinched when a roar and a scream sounded from Lucy's room. They smiled when it was quickly followed by great waves of laughter.

Susan looked relieved when Peter turned to her. He reached over and grabbed her hand. "How about a moonlit stroll, my Queen?"

"What?" Susan smiled cheekily. "No ladies to take one with you?"

Peter chuckled deep in his throat and rolled to his feet with a hand out. "Tonight I think I'd like to be with my family."

Susan sighed. "We really _should_ be sleeping."

"What we _should_ do is cherish every moment our time is our own." he answered mysteriously.

She looked closely at her older brother. He was usually right about these things. He got them from Edmund and Lucy. She sighed again and swung out of her seat, taking his hand as she stood. "I'll be right back."

Peter smiled in her wake and grinned when she ran the last few steps to her room.

* * *

><p>Inside Lucy's room a small light was burning. She had a massive book open in her lap. It was a very old history book from the royal library which meant it was more like a fairy tale. It featured a brave knight who fought a vicious king by befriending a dragon. Lucy wondered if there were any dragons left. She would love to meet one someday.<p>

It was then she heard the door to the common room open. Deep voices she easily recognized sounded muffled through her own door. A lighter one that was just as familiar and just as muffled. She smiled when footsteps neared her room. She hurried and put the book away before she blew out the candle. The door opened very hesitantly. A beam of light entered the room and was quickly followed by a dark head of hair.

She smiled into her pillow and waited for her brother to come over. She stayed, tense as a string, and waited a little more. Then she became confused when no sound was forthcoming. She turned very slowly in the dark and flinched when a tall shadow suddenly let loose a mighty roar. She jumped and shrieked before she flung her pillow at her giggling older brother. Even as it hit him he couldn't stop laughing.

"You dolt!" She swung again and again until he grabbed it and swung back.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He hopped onto the bed and made her bounce a little.

"Shouldn't _you_!" She grabbed one of her many other pillows and gave him a last shove. He stole that pillow from her as well.

"I can't sleep tonight. You know that." he said with an air of confident mockery she hadn't heard in years.

"Oh and how do know that? I was sleeping myself before you barged in-"

"Then why do I smell stearic?"

She huffed and refused to dignify his question with an answer.

"Why do you even need candlelight on a night like this?"

"What do you _mean_ 'a night like this'?"

Edmund sprang from her bed and marched to the window. He ripped the curtains apart and showed a full moon that was hanging right in the center. Turning everything it touched to silver. Lucy gasped. "It's a full moon?" she asked in surprise. Edmund stayed beside the window. "I had no idea."

Then he smiled. The only way she saw was by the reflecting moonlight on his teeth. "And we all know what people do on full moons." He walked to the door without any further explanation. "Get dressed." It swung closed behind him with Lucy sitting in awe.

It only took her a moment to recover before she smiled as brightly as her brother had and hopped out of bed to pull on her clothes. Edmund was right. How could she possibly have slept on a night like this? She threw on a woolly frock over her pale nightgown and ran from the room with her sandals in hand. In the common room she found Edmund speaking softly with their brother. Both were standing in the middle of the room, well away from the fireplace. She did her best not to notice and came to bouncing halt in front of her wonderful older brothers.

"I'm ready," she chirped.

Edmund arched a brow. "Lucy, you were supposed to put on _real_ clothes-"

"These _are_ real clothes." Lucy mouthed off. "What about you-"

"What are you implying? These aren't my nightclothes-"

"Children." Peter calmly interrupted when Susan joined them. "Ready to go?" he asked her.

Susan looked at him with a smile. In less than ten minutes she had managed to pull on one of her pretty dresses. The ones that always made her hair look like onyx and her eyes like ice. It was dark, almost black. Peter wondered how she could get dressed so fast and still take hours to get ready before every party. He opened the door for the girls and slapped Edmund upside the head when he passed.

"_Ow_,"

He shoved his brother along and closed the door behind them. The knowing smiles from their guards were returned as he ushered his siblings into the castle. It was far from quiet. A bit calmer in the private section, but the second they entered the public halls they were swarmed by Court officials and Scholars. Every garden was filled with giggling Dryads and Animals. Not just _nocturnal_ Animals and Creatures, but also creatures that simply enjoyed staying up late. One of them was Cheroom, the great Centaur that spent his nights studying the skies.

"_Mentor_," Peter greeted when they passed. It was the official way to greet one's tutors, at least the Centaur ones.

Cheroom nodded regally back and didn't even raise an eyebrow as to why the royals were out of their beds so late.

And so it went through most of the castle. The royals calmly greeted their subjects who in turn greeted them. Dispatchers were sent to the training grounds where a couple Jaguars were training in the moonlight. A group of guards, mostly Great Cats, were gathered to escort the royals to wherever they wanted to go. Nothing was said of it and Peter couldn't have been more grateful. They ran through the field outside their castle. Laughing and chasing each other through the hip-length grain. It had all been replanted and seemed to have grown back over night. They laughed and the girls giggled as the boys chased them. Their guards followed silently with smiles of their own. Only by the light of the full moon.

When they reached the Oak Circle Lucy crawled onto a root and kissed an Oak. It shivered in delight and she hopped quickly along. Her siblings giggled at her antics, but followed her dutifully into Rush Forest. It was like watching strange creatures, not the usual kings and queens. The night transformed them from children and royals into something else altogether. Like dangerous Ivy Dryads or mysterious creatures of the night.

In the forest they were overwhelmed by an explosion of senses. The trees were lively tonight. Most were dancing and the further the siblings went the clearer it became as to why. Deep notes of a drum vibrated their chests and made them smile predatorily.

The first clearing they came to was alive with movement. There were no fires and no talks. Just the strange thumps from the Nymphs' drums and shrill whistles from the Naiads' reed flutes. With the slow shakes of music Lucy began dancing. She joined the Wind Spirits and Sirens in the whirling movements. Peter grabbed Susan's hand and pulled her into the dance. Edmund was swept up by three Naiads and pulled along, laughing.

Without fire or wine the night took on a strange characteristic. It was calmer than the feasts they usually threw. It wasn't wild like the merry parties Fauns were known to host. It wasn't intense like the Centaurs' nighttime stories. It was the full moon dance of the forest. Fireflies and strange, little sprites filled the air. A sweet smell spread with the wind. Bison grass and jasmines. Laughter was in the air, but not stifling. A spray of salt sometimes blew through the trees and reminded them all that the ocean was near.

As the royals danced their troubles away for just one night, their guards looked on with smiles of their own. And as the silent Moon climbed higher and higher, she looked down at the merry faces and smiled. She looked at her sons and daughters in the night sky and bade them all to dance. So it seemed that the Stars themselves joined in the mysterious tones from the drums and flutes.

Only as the Moon yawned and began falling to the floor did the partiers calm as well. The Stars slowed their dizzying circles and curtsied to each other in thanks. It was a night well spent. As their father, the Sun, came into the sky they dwindled and blinked their goodbyes to the strange, little creatures on the ground.

Lucy's laughter could be heard all the way back to the castle as she joked with her siblings. Their laughter rang like little bells all through the castle and Great Cats slunk in the wake of her and her siblings. All who heard the laughter awoke with a strange sense of joy. The smiled in their sleep in the moments before real alertness.

Oreius was there to greet the brothers after they escorted their sisters to their rooms. The general said nothing when Peter and Edmund entered their room and closed the door behind them. They could miss training just this once. With a small smile he headed down to the grounds and allowed his kings their rest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> A nice one. They're doing a little better, which hopefully comes accross. I'll try to be more consistent with the updates. Cheers.


	38. Chapter 37: The Empress

**Disclaimer: **I told you that one with the sandwich right?

**Author's Note:** Things are calming down. More nobles being introduced. Next one will hold a bit of a surprise for you. Hope it makes you scream ;) The italics are home made.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 37: "The Empress"<strong>

"_Written by Sigfred Badger: The Story of the Last Guardians(Abbreviated version)._

_In the Old Days, when the sons of King Frank and Queen Helen ruled Narnia, blessings were great. But the peace did not last. Unrest stirred in the West and South. Humans of another constitution began to threaten the blessed land. The King set out on a campaign to defeat the intruders. Many battles followed. Wars his sons would inherit. Trouble that did not seem to end. Time aged and blessings became less._

_Many centuries after King Frank and Queen Helen a great descendant of theirs took the throne. Though he was loved by his people he was not of his father's mind. The King was troubled. He battled against enemies and friends alike. Fear and paranoia crippled his heart, though what a great heart it was. His passion and love was so powerful it easily turned to fury and righteous anger. Many began to fear the great King. Smiles were few and far apart until one day they were no more."_

* * *

><p>The day of the Autumn Feast marked the beginning of three weeks of parties. King Lune and his entire family arrived very early in the morning and were escorted to their customary rooms for coffee and tea. Susan was already up, twisting her hair into a bun. She stuck in three Gryphon feathers instead of jewelry and went to her and Lucy's common room for breakfast. Coffee and tea was already waiting and scenting the room. Luring the queens from their slumber. The sun had barely risen and it was very obvious that winter was on its way.<p>

The light was blue, not yellow, and mist covered the ground.

It wasn't long until Lucy joined her with a tired yawn. The youngest queen had yet to get dressed. She thanked a Rabbit when it brought her a cup of tea and sat in front of her sister. There were still two empty seats. "The boys?"

"Still sleeping, I suppose." Susan was going over what was essentially a grocery list for the entirety of Cair Paravel along with a specific grocery list for the upcoming parties.

Lucy hummed and sipped her tea. It was too bitter for her taste and she quickly added sugar. What her sister considered to be too much. "Viska made those truffles that Peter likes."

Susan looked up mid-sip. "How do you know?"

Lucy shrugged and bit into a scone. "Heard the ladies talking."

That second the doors opened to two, tired kings. Both were rubbing their eyes and looked as though they'd rather be in bed. "You're up early." Peter mumbled as he took his seat. Usually the boys ate alone before they went to train. It was rare to see both queens up before dawn.

"King Lune is here." Susan supplied and handed Edmund a cup without looking. The Just King took it with a growl of relief and sipped it quietly.

"How long have you been up?" Peter asked.

"Only little over an hour."

"How do you do it?" he asked in genuine surprise. In answer Susan simply saluted him with her coffee cup.

Silence was allowed to consume the table as each ate their breakfast and prepared for the day. Not until Dala clapped into the room did they each look up from their plates. "Good morning, your Majesties. Would you like me to brief you on the events for today?"

"Yes please." Lucy said and took a sip of juice.

Dala, having it all memorized, needed very little in the way of written aids. "The Kings have a training session with Oreius in forty minutes. Crown Prince Cor and Prince Corin have asked to join you,"

Edmund and Peter nodded.

"I'll let them know. At midday you all have a luncheon with the senior committee. They're very excited about this year's storytelling which is scheduled for midnight tonight, after the lighting of the fire."

It was customary to meet with the senior committee of court historians to go over the story they would share at midnight. "After lunch the Kings have an engagement at Glasswater where the Lady Aliéna is scheduled to arrive." The lady was the governor of Felimath. She was very stiff and often quite abrasive, but also very fair and just. She had been underway for a long time and had sent a message with an Albatross that stated she was looking forward to being on land once again. "After lunch Queen Lucy has a meeting with Tarvi about palace security during tomorrow's feast in the Grand Hall, and Queen Susan has agreed to oversee the setting of the pyre for this evening, I believe?"

Susan nodded, not looking up from her grocery lists.

Dala cleared her throat and continued. "And I believe all are free for dinner. Should I have a private setting prepared on the balcony?"

"Yes, thank you." Susan said, leafing through a list of things she had to do that day. "Could you set up some torches? It might get a bit cold otherwise."

"Of course." Dala nodded before she resumed her listing of their duties for the day. "I believe you have the evening free until the official speech, but the Irins have requested King Edmund's presence. Shall I give them your reply?"

"What?" Edmund looked up from his cup and tried to sort out her question, not really having paid much attention. "Did they say why?"

"No, your Majesty."

"Uh, yes. Yes tell them I'll speak with them."

"Very well."

"Anything else, Dala?" Peter asked.

"No, King Peter."

"Thank you. You're excused."

The Goat bowed and clopped out of the room. The silence then again invaded until Edmund slapped his thighs and looked around at his siblings. "Well at least there's no court."

* * *

><p>Training began as it always did, putting on armor and running from entrance to back wall of the training ground three times. The dirt very quickly caked every inch of steel that covered their bodies. The sun was very mild that morning. A pale, orange glow covered everything its rays touched. The twins were very eager to begin their training and asked for the kings to train them. Oreius allowed it seeing as training these days consisted mostly of mock battles with the soldiers. The kings had learned all they could and in truth rivaled most of the men under Oreius' guidance. Including the Centaur himself.<p>

Cor was assigned to fight with Edmund and Corin with Peter. Oreius watched carefully from the sidelines as the kings easily went through defensive moves. The twins were doing well, which was probably what King Lune had expected when he first came up with the idea of letting his boys train under the sovereigns.

The lesson ended with a match between Edmund and his brother. The twins drew aside to watch and were quickly joined by curious soldiers. Oreius couldn't blame them. Watching the brothers practice separately was like watching a river. Mesmerizing. But watching them battle each other was like watching a painting taking shape before one's very eyes. King Edmund was partial to quick, narrow thrusts and light jabs, whereas King Peter preferred large, swiping movements, backed up by packed muscles. The different tactics would seemingly clash with each other, but somehow the brothers made it look like child's play.

Moving back and forth, smiling and throwing bribes at each other. Every once in a while Oreius would bark a loud _"Focus!"_ just to keep them on their toes, but in reality there was no need. After many years of service he had seen them in battle more than enough to recognize their skill. Truly unmatched and not because of their techniques, but because of the disposition of each man. As all great kings that had ever lived, High King Peter was moved by his emotions and allowed them to intimidate enemies or comfort friends. King Edmund was the shadow. The quiet wave of protection until someone he loved was threatened. Then he became like the fire-mountains of the south. Spewing molten rock and striking down all in his path.

Together they had survived more than they ever would have apart. It had not taken Oreius long to realize that. He realized it the day they defeated the White Witch. Surely Peter would have died without his brother and even surer was it that Edmund would have died without all his siblings. He watched the young men fondly. They were growing up and not just physically. Peter was becoming comfortable in his own body, growing a beard. Allowing his true age to shine through. Edmund was bulking up and taking after his brother more and more each day.

Every once in a while Oreius wondered what his sovereigns' parents had been like. He only knew what little Lucy of Peter had let slip out over the years. Before they forgot. He knew their father had fought in a war and could easily see where they inherited their sense of honor. At the beginning Susan had often told her sister how much she was like their mother. The general wondered if perhaps their bravery, their courage to stand up for people weaker than themselves, stemmed from _her_.

How truly amazing those two people must have been to bring such gifted children into the world. Though the twins were learning quickly from their older role models he knew they would never be much more than shadows. And it struck him with such intensity that the kings and queens would one day die. This bright era of sunlight would end and Narnia would be plummeted into a time without its sword, diamond, shield and song.

Like he had many times before, he once again sent Aslan thanks. The Lion was truly a wise being. Because even though it would one day end, they could still say it had existed. And hopefully it would inspire other rulers into even greater kings and queens. He smiled when King Peter swiped the flat of Rhindon under his brother's legs and won the match. Cheers and applause sounded somewhat sporadically through half the crowd while the other half booed on King Edmund's behalf. Peter helped his laughing brother up and placed a protective hand on his back.

As they passed him Oreius gave them both an approving nod and a smile.

After training, the battling brothers indulged in a second breakfast before they went on to their business. The queens had already vanished to see to their own projects so Peter and Edmund headed out to Glasswater with an impressive amount of soldiers and carriers. Lady Aliéna was greeted with genuine happiness. Both boys saw her almost as a loving aunt, and she saw them as adoring nephews. It helped she brought presents for them whenever she visited. She was accompanied back to the castle and settled in.

Lunch was served with the senior historians in the Green Pavilion. More a greenhouse than a room really. It was located on the eastern side of the castle and had a view of the sea. The winter garden held all the exotic fruits and plants that couldn't survive the Narnian winter. Dates and eucalyptus were only a few of them. They scented the air wonderfully and went a long way to brighten the mood.

The court historians presented their story to the sovereigns. It was one of the ancient ones. Nearly nine hundred years old, written by an obscure author who had been forgotten during the passage of time. It wasn't until half way through that Edmund suddenly realized it was about the Irins. It seemed his siblings noticed then as well and suddenly looked at each other in surprise.

The reader cleared his throat. It was an old Badger named Gillysnout. "We realize the autumn reading is usually about common folk who rise against injustice-"

"As a way to inspire the people." a Squirrel interrupted. The little lady was also a court historian though she drove most of the slow-moving librarians insane. They had hired her because of the speed with which she could read an entire book. Also for the fact that she was one of very few Squirrels that could actually read.

"Yes, yes." Gillysnout mumbled. "But we felt this year, because of the Irins' arrival, that we would read _their_ story." The librarians looked at their kings and queens carefully, waiting for a response.

"I think that's a very good idea." Peter eventually said in a soft voice. His smile beamed at Edmund when the two crossed gazes.

* * *

><p>Carrying the secret for the librarians all day proved almost unbearable for Lucy. Romel and the rest of the Irins were settled in. Young men and women were crowding the halls with a few children in between. The young couples were Irins themselves for the most part and Edmund had decided to try and get to know them before the bonfire that night.<p>

Every time Lucy crossed their paths she blushed and made tiny squeaks all the while running away. Edmund tried explaining that she was just excited about the festivities finally beginning, but from the looks Romel sent him he doubted any of them believed him. "So where is the Duke of Galma?" he asked casually when Edmund came over after speaking with a young boy.

"He won't be here for another week. The trip takes about three to four days and he was recently here, as you _may_ remember," He glanced over. "He'll be here for Peter's birthday next week."

"How are you and Aamel doing?" He gestured to the boy who was sitting on the floor with a carved wooden horse. The boy Edmund had helped save in the Air Castle.

"Very well." He smiled a little in spite of himself. The boy was very trusting. "He doesn't remember much about his previous lives though." He turned back to Romel. "How did you know he was an Irin?"

"We weren't sure at first when his parents brought him, but then he started remembering a bit more."

"What happened to his parents?"

"They left when they found out who he really was."

The sorrow struck Edmund like a blow to the chest. "They _left_ him?"

Romel looked resigned as if he had seen it a hundred times before. Thinking about it, Edmund decided he probably had. "They tried to make it work. Tried to cope when Aamel began changing."

"The memories of killing people?" The young king could imagine what kind of change that would bring to a man. A small child was even worse. Even _he_ couldn't imagine that.

"Yeah." Romel was staring at the small boy when a young woman picked him off the floor and left the room with a shy smile at Edmund. "But that wasn't why I called you here." Romel turned back to him and lost the faraway look in his eyes.

Edmund nodded and tried to focus on Romel. It was easy to forget how much the Irins had been through until you were suddenly smacked in the head with it.

"Me and the others, the eldest, have decided to give you a gift."

Edmund was speechless. His mouth dropped slightly and his eyes widened as he took in every furrow of Romel's face.

"We would like to present it to you on the last night of the Autumn Feast."

He could feel a blush creeping into his cheeks. "Is that necessary? To make a big thing about it, I mean."

Romel smiled suddenly. Only a little one, but enough to puzzle Edmund. "It's critical."

The king huffed and drew back. "It's hardly necessary. I don't need a gift."

"_Need_ kind of defies the purpose of _giving_ a gift. If you needed it, it wouldn't be a gift."

Edmund felt very self-conscious suddenly. He had an unyielding urge to lunge out of the chair and flee from the room. He couldn't keep his body still and for some reason he kept touching his face. Trying to hide it. "I-…" He huffed through his nose. "Why?"

Romel's smile widened. "We talked and we all agreed that you've earned it."

A spark of irritation flickered in him. "I've _earned_ it?" What was this gift?

"You shouldn't dismiss it. It's a great honor."

His worry doubled. "What exactly _is_ this gift?"

"You'll see."

He growled and looked away when Thale and Valera entered the room. They shared a brief conversation with Romel through just their eyes before they decided to stay. "Has he told you?" Valera asked as she sat next to her commander. Thale took a seat next to Edmund.

The Just King was at a loss for words. "I don't like that it has to be during the Feast to be honest."

"We've spoken to your brother." Romel said. "He encouraged it."

"You spoke with Peter?" In answer they just smiled. Edmund's mood dropped. "Why not just give it to me now?"

"Because it's special." Valera answered.

Edmund rubbed his mouth for the umpteenth time. "Yes Romel hinted to that." When Edmund looked Thale was smiling cheekily at him. "And you want to give it to me on the last night of the Feast?"

Romel nodded. "If you would rather we give it to you in private that can be arranged."

"Then why wait?" It had been years since he had felt so confused.

"Because certain people should be present," Romel glanced at his second in command. "Your siblings for one, should be there. Your general would probably like to see it as well. Any close friends? That Horse of yours."

"Phillip."

"Yes." Romel looked at him, waiting for an answer. Waiting for his approval, Edmund realized.

"Alright." His voice was a squeak.

All three burst out in smiles. "Good. It's settled then. Should I talk to Queen Susan about a place to present it?"

Edmund looked aghast at Romel and Valera. "Uh…" He swallowed and kick-started his mind. "Yeah. _Yes_." He frowned into the floor. "Yes."

"Good."

He looked up again. The Irins seemed far too pleased with themselves. It made Edmund suspicious. "Anything else?" he asked sardonically.

"Archer is furious over being confined to his room." Valera said with a distinctly joking tone.

Edmund couldn't wipe away his confusion. He didn't know he looked slightly suspicious. "He _does_ know it's not until Lord Ayel returns?"

"We may have neglected to tell him Lord Ayel ever left." Thale said with a smile.

The jibe reminded Edmund so fiercely of another. He felt a stab of sadness when he was reminded of someone taller with a red head of hair. He looked down and nodded, trying to chase away the sadness. "Well could you tell 'im? I'd rather he not be mad at my siblings when there's no need."

Romel sobered and nodded. "We'll make sure he knows." He somehow picked up on the sting that had dampened the young king's mood. When Edmund looked at him he wondered what had passed through his mind. "Promise." he offered with a tiny smile.

A little one lit Edmund's face as well before he rolled out of his seat. He stopped before he reached the door. "I have a surprise for you as well." He turned back to find the three of them riveted. "At midnight by the bonfire."

They looked mightily confused, but none of them spoke. Edmund reveled a little that he could turn their own trick back on them, and smiled. "Dress nice." he fired off before he closed the door.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So most of you probably already know what Edmund is talking about and you may also remember what Romel is talking about even? Those who don't are welcome to ask :) Thanks for reading. Hope you're still enjoying.


	39. Chapter 38: The World

**Disclaimer:** Read previous.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait. I'm trying to keep up chapter wise and though there's not long to go I still want to make the last part of the story worth reading for you. The italics are home made and meant to be the story of the Irins as told by Gillysnout, the Badger.

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><p><strong>Chapter 38: "The World"<strong>

"_Written by Sigfred Badger: The Story of the Last Guardians(Abbreviated version. Continued)._

_The King, under the influence of his wife, had ordered an attack on innocent citizens, but his men refused. A small group rose against the King and his tyranny. They claimed his wife was in reality a witch and were thrown forth out of the country. The witch, for that was her true nature and many believed she had corrupted the King, cast the rebellious soldiers out of Aslan's fair kingdom. But her curse was far worse than just exile._

_She had cursed the soldiers with life. She had bound their souls to the land from whence they had been banished. So long as Narnia existed they would as well until the day they retook the oath they broke. Swore loyalty to the King they betrayed. The witch sired children with the King and hoped the Irins would one day come back as mighty warriors, forever faithful to her children._

_But the curse was too strong. The Immortals tried many times to return to their home. Every time they crossed the borders it was as if a great beast of fury possessed all who laid eyes upon them. Gentle Animals would become fearsome. The anger with which the witch had cursed them soured their souls like a sickness. It infected those around them like a poison and so they could never return._

_It was not what the witch had intended and it is not known if she was made aware of it before she died. For die, she did. The King as well. Their children grew up and ascended the throne. Narnia recovered from the wars, but was still somber though none remembered why._

_As years passed, the Immortals roamed the harsh world outside their old home. They were forsaken, but not forgotten. Few Creatures and Animals remembered and knew they would one day see their brave saviors again. In this faith they named them the Last Guardians for they were sure that the Immortals would return to their home in its greatest hour of need._

_But years turned to centuries as time continued. And alas, it has been ages since the Immortals supposedly lived. Narnia has seen many trials since then and there has been no sign. Perhaps the tale was only that: A tale?"_

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><p>Every eye was turned expectantly at the Irins. The families were huddled off to the side, speaking with what few Narnians dared address them. The Irins, those Edmund knew and many he didn't, were mum. Their eyes were wide as they stared at Gillysnout's slightly bent body. The court historian and librarian was perched on a small podium so all could see him. In front of him, on an ornate table, lay an open book. He was looking expectantly at Romel until he suddenly seemed overcome by a wave of nervousness and cleared his throat.<p>

"But as we witness today the doubts of the author are abolished." He looked around at his dead silent audience and spoke up. "The Immortals have returned and has aided Narnia when She most needed it."

The four kings and queens all knew he was referring to the very recent victory over Calormen. Their faces saddened and as one they all felt a strong urge to look at one another. They exchanged glances and smiled softly when reassured their siblings were beside them. Reaching out each of their hands they made a chain and held on softly as Gillysnout continued his speech.

"Proof!" He raised a little clawed paw. "Of Aslan's might and benevolence." The audience was elated. Everyone began clapping or stomping, according to their anatomical limitations.

Edmund looked at the Irins and saw tears drip down cheeks. Even Romel seemed moved beyond words with the telling of their story.

"And so," Gillysnout had the audience under his complete control and was smiling because of it. "We would like to present you… with _this_." He gestured to a Dwarf Lady. One Edmund knew very well. She approached him and he rose from his seat.

He took the parcel from her and bowed. She curtseyed in return and vanished back into the crowds. Edmund drew a deep breath and met Romel's eyes. He smiled when he saw how nervous he looked. With relaxed steps he made his way to the Irins, past Gillysnout. He stood in front of Romel and held out the parcel. It was an ornate box, really. Decorated to protect its contents for a long time.

"Open it," Gillysnout encouraged behind Edmund.

The Just King smiled at Romel, encouraging him as well. With a glance back the Irin reached out and tipped the lid carefully. Inside the box was a little, silver dagger. It was wonderfully decorated. Organic vines filled blade and handle both. The cross guard was a web of finely spun silver. It was a little girly in Edmund's opinion, but still very beautiful. And it was more than just a present for Romel. It was a gift for all of them. A gift to remember those they had lost. "Take it." he whispered.

Valera was standing right beside Romel with tears in her eyes and a wonderful smile. Even Archer seemed about to cry, but was holding it back admirably. Edmund's smile widened automatically when Romel took out the dagger and held it up in front of the fire. The massive pyre that was blazing behind Edmund. Behind Gillysnout. It had been hard to ignore before, but now he was almost oblivious.

The knife glinted in the light of the fire and the moon. Catching both and turning the reflections into something much more stunning. Indeed it almost seemed to glow on its own accord. Weighing it in his hands Romel lifted it above his head and elicited a roar of excitement from the crowd. His smile mirrored Edmund's just then and he reached out and pulled the king in for a hug.

If the crowd had been cheerful before they nearly exploded then.

Music started with a bang and dancing commenced without warning or encouragement. The dagger was passed along so every Irin could hold it. Even young Aamel took it in his hands and watched the pyre dance on its blade.

Edmund was pulled in for a hug by Valera as well and blushed when she kissed his cheek. Lucy and their siblings joined them and were welcomed with more thanksgivings and hugs. Especially the young ones. They could barely pull Susan away. Lucy ran up to Archer and was pulled into an embrace that lifted her feet from the ground. Peter shook Romel's hand and was given a kiss by Valera, but bore it much more gracefully than his brother.

The dagger was placed back in its box and Romel spent the evening with it in his lap. He never danced. Didn't drink very much. But a look of complete satisfaction never left his face.

The drinking increased. The dances followed the music in intensity. The Moon and her Stars once again danced for the strange creatures far below them. Not until it was nearing dawn did Lucy fall asleep against Mr. Tumnus' shoulder, her sandals long forgotten. Peter picked her up and carried her to her bed as he always had. The partygoers went home and the fire was allowed to burn out. Edmund grabbed Susan's arm and escorted her back to the castle.

He glanced back at the encroaching darkness and saw the Irins around Romel, watching people retreat. He smiled and pulled his sister closer.

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><p>Sweat drenched his clothes. Uncontrollable shivers raced up and down his body. His heart was pounding in his chest, which felt like it was being squeezed. His covers had become like a snake, coiling around him in an attempt to kill him. His exhales were hoarse and gasping. His back arched and his fingers curled into the mattress deep enough to leave holes. And with the next exhale he let out the hoarse scream that had been tearing at his throat.<p>

He screamed and screamed because he knew he would die if he didn't. Again and again until he couldn't remember why he had started, but only the fear. The fear that still made his heart pound fast and hard in his too tight chest. His skin that felt too sensitive.

And then it suddenly stopped. From one moment to the next the only thing he felt were two hands on his shoulders and warm breaths on his face and neck. His own breaths were shaky and horribly rough. A door opened somewhere far away and let false light into the room. It was quickly closed again. The hands pulled him closer and became arms which then became someone's entire upper body.

"Shh. It was just a nightmare." Peter whispered. He was shaking from being woken up by screams. A jaded part of his mind told him he should be used to it by now. Edmund was crying, well not exactly crying, but it was some form of hysteria. He was whimpering. Shivering. Tears were falling down his cheeks and whetting Peter's night shirt. "Easy. Deep breaths." he whispered.

Edmund didn't speak. He didn't ask any questions, he didn't give any prayers. All he did was latch onto his older brother like a kitten. Like he had done not so long ago. The oddity of it was that he was shaking. Goosebumps covered every part of his body, Peter could feel. It was odd because Peter knew what his brother had dreamt about.

_Fire!_

"Shh, shh…" It flickered in his own mind and tried to scare him as well. He _was_ scared, but could bear it until his brother didn't anymore. "Do you want to talk about it?" he mumbled. It had been a long time since he had felt scared in these situations, but suddenly a spark flickered to life inside him. He stomped it down before it could infest his mind.

"N-No."

"C'mon, Ed. Talk to me." He knew it was important. He hated it. It was a while before Edmund calmed down enough to talk. But talk he did. Every word was interrupted by a shiver or a yawn, but come they did. And Peter sat through it all. Holding his little brother, not because Edmund needed it, but because _he_ did. When they were both too tired to stay awake Edmund was tucked back in and Peter lay down next to him.

And with a feather light kiss on his brother's temple he whispered: "Try to sleep. It'll be better in the morning."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So life is not all joy and cake. More troubles will ensue. Just 'cause the story is ebbing out doesn't mean it's gonna get boring. :) Thanks to the readers and reviewers, you guys are all so awesome.


	40. Chapter 39: Judgment

**Disclaimer:** Good morn good folk of fanfiction. As always I own nothing but the apple in my bag and the cigarettes in my pocket. Oh yes, and the Irins.

**Author's Note:** Dear readers, this is the second last chapter. I'm both happy and a little sad to inform you that it's nearing the end. Of this story anyway. As I mentioned earlier there will be a THIRD story in this 'verse. But that's following an independent story that takes place years before these two. It's complicated, I know. But do not despair. Many stories are on hold to be written. This little world I've created will not end for a long while. And I'd like to apologize for jumping in the chronology. But for now that's how it is :) Nothing else left to say except: the italics are taken directly from the internet by typing in the words "judgment" and "definition". Happy reading.

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><p><strong>Chapter 39: "Judgment"<strong>

"_The act or process of judging; _

_The formation of an opinion after consideration or deliberation._

_The capacity to form an opinion by distinguishing and evaluating._

_The capacity to assess situations or circumstances and draw sound conclusions; good sense._

_A determination of a court of law; a judicial decision._

_An assertion of something believed._

_A misfortune believed to be sent by God as punishment for sin."_

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><p>The next morning they woke early and joined their sisters in their common room. It was too cold to sit outside. Edmund was quiet like usual, but somehow Peter figured their attentive sisters knew. He figured they had heard the screams. Figured others had as well and hated that he hadn't prevented them. He hated that he couldn't protect his brother from the inevitable concern the morning after. <em>Was he alright? Did he dream about Jazir? Was he tired?<em> Peter knew all the questions that hummed in his subjects' minds because they hummed around his as well.

He looked at his brother across the table. He had promised it would be alright, but knew it wasn't. This was just more of the same to add to Edmund's night terrors. A circle of horrific acts committed against him that would never really fade away, and what burned Peter was the most was knowing that there was next to nothing he could do to stop it.

"Can you pass the jam?"

"Hm?" He looked from Lucy to the bowl of raspberry jam on the table. He handed it to her without a word. His eyes quickly left Lucy's downturned face and focused on Edmund. Every one of them was keeping their heads down. Eating quietly, as if afraid to speak of what had happened. It suddenly made him furious that his sisters didn't even care enough to ask. Surely they had heard the screams. He only stopped himself from asking his brother flat out if he was alright, because it dawned on him that maybe Edmund preferred it that way.

Peter looked a bit closer at his sisters and noticed that Lucy kept touching Edmund's arms. She kept brushing up against him as if to reassure him she was still there. Or perhaps reassure herself that he was alright. Susan kept shooting covert glances in his direction whenever he moved. The High King sighed and accepted that there truly was nothing he could do except be there.

"I hate this." Susan uttered quite suddenly, and made a very un-queenly sound in the back of her throat. She had been going over the plans for the day.

"What?" Edmund asked. His brown eyes were zeroed in on his sister's face.

"Throwing parties."

"You love throwing parties." Peter said smartly and sipped his tea.

Susan speared him with a look that could have turned water to ice. "Not when I'm throwing them just for the sake of gifts."

Peter suddenly realized that it was self-loathing that vexed her. "People know we're suffering after all these wars in the past years. They don't mind helping."

"I think many of them would be offended if they couldn't," Lucy cut in.

Susan made the same noise as before and frowned. "A gift isn't a gift if you need it. Defies the purpose." she muttered sullenly, and quite out of character for the usually eloquent lady.

"Romel said something like that." Edmund commented softly.

"Well he's right."

"Susan," Peter sighed. There was no point denying that they needed help. The treasury was growing emptier by the day with all the upkeep and maintenance. It wasn't even the parties that were depleting it.

"Perhaps we should consider loaning money?" Susan said, almost surprising herself.

"No." Peter barked with conviction.

"Why not?" Susan fired off.

"Because the only place wealthy enough to loan us the money is the one country I would never want to be indebted to."

_Calormen_, Edmund sagely realized. "What about Terebinthia?"

The siblings looked at each other in wonder. "That might work." Lucy said, a hesitant smile brightening her face.

Peter wondered if the king would consider it, but realized _he_ didn't like the idea himself. "No."

"Peter," Susan sighed in the same voice had used not moments before.

"I don't like the idea of owing anyone anything. We've always taken care of our home and this is no different." He rose from the table, intent on getting to his room and getting dressed.

"This _is_ different." she insisted and followed him out of the door, leaving their two siblings behind. "We've never had a financial crisis before. We've never been want in that department, and frankly I don't feel at all equipped to deal with it!" She stormed testily after him, down halls full of soldiers and members of the court.

"Then hire someone to help!" Peter bit back and stopped so abruptly that she bumped into him. He turned and stared her down in his best big-brotherly way. "See if you can't get help from Bane or one of our other tutors."

Bane was a Centaur, educated not only in the Stars, but in the way they affected the world. He believed fully that the future could be devised from gazing into the night. After years of inexplicable events Peter had come to see it as truth. But Bane was also very good with numbers of all kinds which was why he had been appointed as the royal records keeper in charge of all the wealth the entered or exited the Cair.

At his suggestion Susan deflated a little. "Peter, what if I can't fix this?" she asked in her smallest voice.

And with that Peter deflated as well. He saw in front of him glimpses of what his sister had been. The little girl, his baby sister, and a reached out and drew her into his arms. "Then I'll get the little ones to help."

Susan huffed into his shirt, but he knew she was smiling. It was their private way of referring to their younger siblings. "We'll figure it out, Su. I promise." He pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Have I ever lied to you?"

She smiled and allowed herself to be pulled close again before he let her go.

"If we didn't trust you to do it, you wouldn't be the one doing it." he affirmed. She nodded in a slightly pouting way that reminded him so fiercely of when she had been younger. Their mum had constantly nagged him to be careful with her. The flashing image of his mother's face was gone the second it surfaced. Not even staying long enough for his conscious mind to register it. "You should go back and finish your breakfast." He nudged his head in the intended direction and smiled when she nodded again.

She turned, noticeably calmer, and returned to their siblings.

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><p>The day progressed much like the day before. Music was played, dancing ensued. Food was consumed in every manner and fashion imaginable. The financial troubles that morning seemed far away as bonfires lit up all across the countryside.<p>

It ended much like the night before as well.

Sometime in the middle of the night, long before the most stubborn partiers tired, but still late for anyone who wasn't nocturnal, whimpers echoed through the room. Fabric folded around sweaty limbs and stuck like feathers on tar. The air in the room heated until one could almost taste it. The large windows fogged up. The whimpers turned to keening wails as fear began to infect the mind it was trying to corrupt.

The first flinch brought a flailing arm in collision course with a small table by the side of the bed. Something clanked in the darkness and rolled to the floor. Across the room someone else awoke with a snort. Peter sat up in bed and looked blindly into the night, wondering a moment what had ripped him from his slumber. Then, from the other bed, a twitch. A yelp. He was out before he felt his feet hit the carpets.

He tripped over whatever Edmund had knocked down, but reached him before the first scream burst out. He was writhing under his sheets and a sudden notion struck Peter. It occurred to him that his brother might think he was wrapped in that cloak he had been after his rescue, and ripped the sheets away to let the cool air soothe whatever nightmare was chasing him.

The effect was slow. The screams never really started and instead Edmund seemed to settle ever so slightly. Peter was very careful not to wake him up. It was the one thing he had learned after years of soothing nightmares with all his siblings. They couldn't remember them if they didn't wake during the nightmare. He settled into the bed beside Edmund and allowed his weight to reach his brother's subconscious. He shushed and placed a feather light hand on his forehead. There he began rubbing a slow circle.

It worked wonders every time. Edmund didn't wake, but he stopped sweating and shivering. His muscles unclenched and his head turned towards the source of the warmth and weight. Peter continued to rub his brother's head, knowing it was helping. Only once the Just King was resting peacefully did he roll away and crawl back into his own bed.

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><p>The festivities continued undisturbed despite the night terrors that plagued Edmund, and by extension his brother. Lucy's seventeenth birthday rolled around with a splendor of guests and music. As they did every so often, the troubles of the world seemed very far away to the people of the court. It was a well-deserved break from worrying and the Narnians embraced it warmly.<p>

And despite Susan's dislike of it the treasuries were quickly refilling. King Lune had graciously agreed to help his sister-nation get back on its feet, and burdens already seemed to ease.

Peter's birthday came due as well and finally the sovereigns could see an end to the parties. They were all longing for things to return to normal by then. Longing to return to their usual routines with a vigor that surprised even _them_.

It was the last night of celebrating and Peter had mentioned that some of the Narnians had a surprise for their sovereigns. Edmund knew of course that his brother was lying to him and that the surprise for all of them was in fact a gift only for him.

He didn't want it. Didn't feel very deserving of it. He had even tried luring Peter away from the festivities by proposing a midnight run with the Wolves. It was a while since he had indulged in something so frivolous.

The night wore on and at the Moon reached apex. Suddenly there seemed to be a migration of the crowd. Edmund felt his hand gripped by a much smaller one and found Lucy smiling up at him. She had hit a growth spurt, but to his hidden pleasure he was still slightly taller than her. She pulled him along with the rest of the crowd, into the forest. Away from the fire.

It was a cool evening, but suddenly his heart began pounding. He started sweating. His woolly shirt began to feel stifling.

They reached a second fire. A much smaller one. All the Irins were gathered on the opposite side of it with the crowd around them. He recognized most of the faces and not just the Irins'. Celer and his wife. Oreius. Tarvi. Kanell and Xati with their firstborn daughter. Even Tumnus was there. Lucy let go of his hand and gave him a soft push forward. He nearly stumbled, but regained balance in time to see Valera smile.

"In honor of our old ways," the Irin began as she looked around the crowd. "And of the King who saved us," She stepped up to Edmund, only looking straight at him once they were nose to nose. "We have a present for you."

The crowd cheered and howled, but quickly silenced.

"A present that can't be held in your hands, but one we hope you'll cherish nevertheless."

Edmund glanced back at his siblings and hoped people couldn't tell he was sweating through his clothes. He didn't know what was making him so nervous, but chalked it up to the attention. His silver crown sat heavily on his head.

What next happened caught him by surprise. He had half expected Valera to pull something from the folds of her clothes or for Romel to step forward and present him with a gift. Instead Valera reached out and placed one hand squarely on Edmund's forehead and another on his heart.

"In the Old Days knighthoods were never allotted," She was looking at Edmund, but the young king had the distinct feeling that Valera was speaking to the entire crowd. "It was believed that a true knight was born with his true name. To discover that name, one's true being, was more honorable than any title a king could bestow."

Had Edmund looked he would have seen fierce pride on the faces of his friends and family.

"And so, honoring our old ways, I would like to present you with _yours_. I hope you accept it," Her voice softened on the last sentence and almost became a request.

Edmund nodded covertly, feeling the need to let them know their gift would be treasured. No matter what it was.

"When we first met you, you were Edmund the Traveler." Valera's voice rose with the flicker of flames and suddenly it felt as though the forest around them became alive with the calls of nocturnal birds. "From this day forth you shall be known to us as Edmund _Aevis'Heil_."

Silence fell.

"The Enlightened One!"

And a roar rose among the gathered to rival the birthday cheers of his siblings. His siblings, who too, were cheering. Edmund's breath was coming in short bursts and he couldn't take his eyes off Valera's. The two looked at each other until she smiled again. Only then did the shock leave him. He saw the other Irins cheer and suddenly heard the cacophony of sounds that surrounded him. He looked around with wide eyes at the calls of pride and love from friends and family alike.

It was more than he had expected. More than he had imagined, but somehow he felt it was exactly what he deserved, though he didn't think himself very enlightened. Valera removed her hands and Edmund grabbed it midair. A wide smile spread across his face the longer he and the Irin held onto each other until Edmund was outright grinning.

Then with the flick of a wand, Valera let go and stepped back, and Edmund became embarrassed. He looked down when a fierce blush crept across his face. Romel and Archer were clapping their hands and smiling when suddenly warm bodies enveloped him. His siblings ran over and drew him in for a hug the likes of which he had been without for far too long.

He held them back, smiling into the soft folds of their clothes. It felt like ages since he had been so safe.

His state of mind spread through the crowd until it saturated the air. For the rest of the night everyone celebrated and made merry.

The kings and queens withdrew not long after the ceremony, to do what only they knew. Loyal guards followed them home to the castle and took up sentry posts outside their rooms. Though they left the celebrations it was long before any of them went to sleep. Instead they lit a fire in their brothers' room and watched it flicker merrily into the night.

As each sovereign fell asleep on the floor by the fire, dreams visited them. For three the dreams were strange and only slightly frightening, but for one the dreams quickly became nightmares. They woke early in the morning and looked at each other in the pale daylight, sharing the same thought.

By their weary expressions they knew that certain things would never change. The sun would always rise in the east. The sea would always billow against the sand. Trees would wither come fall and snow would settle in winter. And nightmares would always haunt them, be they real or imaginary.


	41. Chapter 40: The Hermit

**The mother of all disclaimers: **As we come to the end of this story let's finish the long line of disclaimers off with a bang, shall we?

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This supersedes all previous notices. Lewis owns Narnia, I do not."

Oh and I did not write this :O

**Author's Note: **The last chapter of the story. A little sad, but also feeling a little relieved. And as if we don't all know I'm gonna start the next one the second I press "upload". The italics are by me and I own the world's coollest hat. It looks like an owl ;) Happy reading and hope to hear from you all soon.

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><p><strong>Chapter 40: "The Hermit"<strong>

"_The Son peered into the looking glass and saw his reflection. He asked the Father how one could see oneself and the Father told him it was how mirrors worked. The boy did not understand the Father's answer just as the Father hadn't understood the Son. Little did he know that the Son would one day birth perfection, or as near to it as possible, just by the light of that one question. That the Son would rise and create many worlds, full of creatures with flawed perfection. Worlds that would become beacons of light, as well as dark. That his Son had at that moment discovered the source of his own pondering: Loneliness. The Father had no idea that the Son would one day come to teach __**him**__."_

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><p><span>(Year 1009. Narnian Calendar)<span>

Nightmares would haunt the child sovereigns for years to come, though they knew none of this yet. Sometimes the queens would suffer by them, sometimes the kings. They would come and go like the seasons. After each 'mare one of them would sit and talk with his or her sibling until the paralyzing fear retreated to the shadows. The sovereigns would come to realize that dreams, nightmares as well, were a part of life.

That to truly never have another dream would only be possible in death. But as it were neither of them knew of the trials they had yet to face. How much each of them would grow and blossom, until they became the men and women they had been destined to be since their conception.

The queens would grow lovelier each passing year. The kings would learn from each other and from how the world treated them. But blessed as they were they saw only the Now. Their tasks and responsibilities. The pleasures ahead. All the light, and just a little bit of darkness.

One morning after his naming found the Just King gazing at the sun from his balcony. He looked into the sky with a deep sigh. His younger sister was beside him. It seemed like years had passed in only months. He felt like that a lot lately. Like time was moving slower than at the beginning of their reign. They all felt tired and worn, he knew, blessed as they were and though they would never dare to forget. But still they felt like ancient beings trapped in bodies that were too young for them. It was a weariness that refused to be chased away by wine or merriment. It was a weariness that inflicted the kings more so than the queens. At a distance at least.

Those who looked a little closer would see the same shadows in the youngest queen's eyes as in those of her brother's. She rarely left Edmund's side these days. Not since Tashbaan. None of his siblings did. "It's not that I don't believe in Aslan." he told the sun.

It had been on his mind the evening before. He had been given a _name_. His true name. One others had fitted him with. He remembered clearly that Romel had one as well. _Ethal'Namen_. Lightbringer. Hale had been his protector and Lauviah had been the Iron Soldier. Now Edmund had one as well. He had joined the ranks of people he could never really hope to understand. People he had never been given a chance to really know. Friends who had been taken from him. "_I know_ He exists and I love Him."

His younger sister squeezed his shoulder. "He knows."

_How can she be so patient?_ "But how do I know they've gone to the Land-Beyond-The-Sea if _they_ didn't believe in Him?" This was the thought that had haunted him since his friends had been taken from him. The Irins, who had been put to rest deep in the Telmar forest, still lived in his mind. Friends he had made while he still had the spirit of a boy. Since their deaths he hadn't slept properly. He tossed and turned every night, wondering what had happened to them. He had spoken with Romel about it, but the commander still seemed reluctant to believe in Aslan. It troubled Edmund.

"Do you really think He would let them suffer?" his sister asked.

The sun was setting. Getting in his eyes. "No."

"Do you think it matters if people believe in Him or not? Do you think He loves them any less?"

He sighed when a lump in his chest loosened. "No." He knew she heard the desperate tone in his voice. It started with a hiccup that brought tears with it. Then it changed to a shiver. One that made Lucy come forth and hug her brother from behind. Her thin arms around his chest and shoulders. "I m-miss them," A lone sob became more as he fell apart. It was troubling how much he still missed his old friends. People he had never really gotten to know, but who had impacted him so profoundly that he could never really forget them. He still dreamt sometimes of Arthur and Lauviah. He had long believed he was destined to meet them. To bring them home somehow.

The soothing warmth of the sun made all his walls crumble. As a person who knew better, he _knew_ with utmost certainty that this very sunset was meant for him. It was meant to soothe his aches. A gift. His sister in her orange dress that so closely mirrored it was for him. Her arms around him, gifts as well. From Aslan. Things to be treasured and repaid.

And with a sense of release he realized that this was Aslan's way of answering his question. His friends were fine. They were gone from this world, but he would see them again someday. As this understanding hit him he turned and picked up his sister in his arms. She allowed him to lean his head on her shoulder and held his hand when they made their way back inside.

The sun was a bit lower in the sky. Inside a fire was crackling. Susan and Peter were waiting for their younger siblings and looked up when they entered.

An orange glow had spread through the room, not from the fire, but from the huge sun. Though Lucy wished she was summer-born Edmund couldn't help but love this time of year. The colors all seemed to glow and come alive though the air cooled and the Dryads went to sleep. He watched her dress as it flawlessly caught and mirrored the orange disk, the warmth of it, as she sat down on the floor. He smiled when all three looked at him. How could he be so fortunate?

Susan raised her hand and beckoned him over. Without hesitation he joined them on the floor in front of the magnificent sun. A Lion's sun.

**To Be Continued...eventually.**

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Made a tiny mistake with Romel's "true" name, but that's fixed now and the mistake took nothing from the chapter. Thanks for reading!


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